Stick Horse Cowgirls

I’m not one to gripe about daylight savings time, but when I got home tonight at 6:30, it was pitch black outside.  I live in the woods, so the darkness is deep (I keep meaning to get a night light installed).  Tonight it seemed especially so. It’s not just the blackness, it’s that it feels late, too.  I was amazed that it was only 6:30, and not two or two-and-a-half hours later.  I remember when I used to show horses and wanted to inhibit the growth of their winter coats to keep them show-sleek.  We’d keep lights on in the stable longer at night  in the winter (not all night, but longer) to “fool” their bodies into not growing long hair.   I think the presence or absence of light is interpreted by our bodies as cues.  Well, this early nighttime seems a cue to mine to hit the h ay early! But, not to worry.  I got home to a wonderful meatloaf by MIL!  She knows  it is my favorite, and I never make it.  For some re...

When I was in fourth grade (1961) we left our next-door-to-V home and moved out to the country where I lived until I married.  Immediately upon moving there, “Ginger” was purchased.  She was a tall, gentle  chestnut mare, and she was with me until she died, after my marriage. Ginger was my boon companion.  I rode her all over the countryside with a freedom unheard of in my world today.  It was magical.  I must write about some of the adventures that Ginger and I had.  But that is for another day—my mind is on someone else today. The tasks of feeding Ginger and caring for her (and her several later offspring) fell largely to me, which I did not mind at all.  Part of those duties was seeing to her feet.  And we were fortunate that our farrier, Bud, lived about a half mile down our country road.  When Ginger was in need of shoes, I saddled her up and rode down there.    That experience, too, was magical in a different so...

Horses were always a big part of my life. I gave my last three away just months ago, finding that as a single (somewhat depressed) person, keeping horses was more than I can do right now. But, still, they're in my blood. I know a lot about them and, as you can see, some of it is learning by experience!! A little while ago Four Miles North of Nowhere made a little mention of ordering up a harmonica. It set me thinking about the one and only time I decided to learn to play. I am musically-challenged in all areas, but thought I might could manage a harmonica. We ran a boarding stable to defray the expense of our horse hobby, an d we had quite a little cadre of trail riders. We’d meet at 5 a.m. on Spring and Summer Saturday mornings and ride the trails a couple of hours, adjourning for a late Waffle House breakfast. Those were the days!! Anyway, I thought I’d just add a little Western atmosphere to our rides by playing “Happy Trails” and other cowboy tunes as we ambled along th...