It has been a good while since I wrote anything here for my True Horse Tales blog. For that I apologize. My blog is only followed by a very few close friends ( so it's not like lots of people have missed it) and this is a project that I hope to one day leave to all of my kids when I am gone.
See...I really want them to have a feel for what their moms life was like before they were born, while they were growing up, and after they were adults themselves. What I would have given to have something like this from my parents to visit from time to time. A glimpse into their lives, their loves, and the way they thought about things would have been something I would have cherished.
My life has been dominated by my love of horses. I'm not sure why that is and probably never will know. My parents shared with me that by the time I was three I was telling them I wanted a pony. They also told me that I was from then on relentless with that request. Every birthday, every Christmas came the same answer to "what do you want", and the answer was always "a pony".
On my sixth birthday my father took me by the hand and told me to come outside into the back yard where my gift was, and it was something I had wanted for a long time, I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I felt like I was floating out the back door of the house. My pony! They finally got me a pony!
From the height of joy and excitement to the throws of a little kid so disappointed I was crying my guts out. See... what was on our back patio was one of those ride on spring horses that little kids play on. My poor father must have felt awful as I cried over and over to him, "No daddy, No!, I mean a real one! a real one!" to which my flustered father kept saying " This one is real, if you can touch it, it IS real" to which I replied "No daddy I want one that has fur on it" I remember this as if it happened yesterday and the fact of the matter that was almost 50 years ago.
By the time I was ten my father broke down and bought me my first pony. He was an all white pony named Spirit. 45 years later I still remember vividly a number of our rides together and the accidents I had on him learning to ride by the seat of my pants. (literally as I had no saddle) and the truly amazing thing is I have not been without a horse, or many since.
This obsession ( and yes I think its fair to call it that) has been with me growing up, through grade school, junior high, high school. young adulthood, a couple of failed marriages, a struggling single mother for 5 years, and 20 years of marriage to my now husband and soul mate. Ron who has not only supported my obsession, but has jumped in head first to share it with me. See he understood that I came with some baggage. Lots of 1,200-2,000lb baggage that eats, poops, runs and bucks, and he figured out faster than my father did that it had to have "fur on it". Only now I properly call it a "haircoat".