Home on the Range
There's a park in the northern part of central Illinois called Jubilee. We used to ride horses there. I don't know how many thousands of acres are given over for horseback riding but enough that if you went too far without knowing where you were going, you could easily be lost for a couple of days.
I'd dreamed of horses ever since I can remember. My parent's joked that my first word was horse. I didn't get a horse until highschool. Until then, I'd read everything about horses I could get my hands on. I knew the name of every body part. I knew the correct side to mount on, correct sitting position, grooming techniques, you name it I'd studied it. I used to straddle the back of our couch and pretend I was riding. I practiced my technique on the back of a yellow floral loveseat.
Finally, in junior high, my parents found some people who made their living raising, training, and showing horses. They didn't give lessons but agreed to let me come out one day to ride. Ruth took me out and put me on an old, gentle mare. She told me to take some laps with her around the arena at a walk. As she stood by my mom, she exclaimed over my natural ability to sit a horse. I walked that old mare around the arena, heels down, chin up, shoulders back, and back as straight as a lance. Ruth agreed that day to start giving me lessons.
What was supposed to have been 1 to 2 hours of riding lessons turned into a full day by my second lesson. Soon I was moving up to the horses they'd been paid to train. I exercised horses, cleaned stalls and tack, fed and watered and groomed them, and swept up the sizable barn. After spending an entire day from dawn till dusk working with the horses, my mom would come pick me up. I hated leaving, wishing the day would never end.
When I started high school, my dream, actually more than I'd ever dreamed of, came true. My parents sold our home, moved to the country, and bought a horse. I rode every day despite heat, cold, or wet. I lived in the saddle and learned a lot about myself. My horse? She was my dream. Someone's former backyard pet, she'd follow me wherever I went. A beautiful buckskin (yellowish blonde color with black mane and tail) whom I'd named Lady. It was love at first site.
I never got rid of my first horse. Oh, I eventually sold Lady when I went to college and wasn't home enough to ride her. No, my first horse is still at my parent's home. It's been reupholstered, that yellow floral loveseat, but it will never be sold.
I'd dreamed of horses ever since I can remember. My parent's joked that my first word was horse. I didn't get a horse until highschool. Until then, I'd read everything about horses I could get my hands on. I knew the name of every body part. I knew the correct side to mount on, correct sitting position, grooming techniques, you name it I'd studied it. I used to straddle the back of our couch and pretend I was riding. I practiced my technique on the back of a yellow floral loveseat.
Finally, in junior high, my parents found some people who made their living raising, training, and showing horses. They didn't give lessons but agreed to let me come out one day to ride. Ruth took me out and put me on an old, gentle mare. She told me to take some laps with her around the arena at a walk. As she stood by my mom, she exclaimed over my natural ability to sit a horse. I walked that old mare around the arena, heels down, chin up, shoulders back, and back as straight as a lance. Ruth agreed that day to start giving me lessons.
What was supposed to have been 1 to 2 hours of riding lessons turned into a full day by my second lesson. Soon I was moving up to the horses they'd been paid to train. I exercised horses, cleaned stalls and tack, fed and watered and groomed them, and swept up the sizable barn. After spending an entire day from dawn till dusk working with the horses, my mom would come pick me up. I hated leaving, wishing the day would never end.
When I started high school, my dream, actually more than I'd ever dreamed of, came true. My parents sold our home, moved to the country, and bought a horse. I rode every day despite heat, cold, or wet. I lived in the saddle and learned a lot about myself. My horse? She was my dream. Someone's former backyard pet, she'd follow me wherever I went. A beautiful buckskin (yellowish blonde color with black mane and tail) whom I'd named Lady. It was love at first site.
I never got rid of my first horse. Oh, I eventually sold Lady when I went to college and wasn't home enough to ride her. No, my first horse is still at my parent's home. It's been reupholstered, that yellow floral loveseat, but it will never be sold.
posted by SonSon at 9:39 PM
6 Comments:
what a touching post :) to have such passion over something.. I could really feel it in your writing!
I found your blog through Tonya's. I have really enjoyed reading your last several posts. I've linked it on my blog so I can visit frequently to see what you have to say. Very insightful posts!
I used to ride horses every summer on my grandparents' farm. So many great memories!
I really enjoyed reading about your experiences with horses!
Here in Kentucky, at least in the Bluegrass area around Lexington, horses are plentiful. Of course, since most are thoroughbred worth more than I will earn in a lifetime, not too many people have the opportunity to ride them.
When I was a kid I had two ponies that my uncle purchased for me. Jenny, the first, was old and gentle—although she did once stop fast when I tried to ride her past her stable and I ended up flying over her head. Apache was solid white, like the Lone Ranger’s Silver. That’s why I had my uncle purchase him after Jenny died. Apache was also young and very difficult for a 10-year-old to control; I can probably count on my fingers the number of times I rode him when he didn’t unsaddle me!
What a great post -- I love childhood memories!
Jubilee sounds like the kind of place I've always dreamed of having to ride. I bugged my mom for four years to let me ride- when I was 9 she decided I was old enough. She thought it would pass til she saw the look on my face the first day we visited the barn.
I am almost 32 and can't always afford to be around horses but have owned, leased, taken thousands of lessons- it's in my blood. I used to run around on all fours cantering, whinnying, even jumpings things!
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