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A Walk Down Memory Lane; Mountain Woman

Do you love looking at old photos of other people or do you run screeching from the room when people say “let me show you these photos?” Just fair warning. Here’s your chance to escape so do it now if old photos are not your thing.

My brother stumbled upon a basket full of slides my Father had made of me as a young girl. Now, I’ve always remembered how much I loved horses (and how much I still do) but the photos helped to crystallize in my mind just how much horses meant to me growing up. I left the photos untouched. Sometimes it’s better to leave life as it is; as it was. But there is some distortion in the color on photos over 40 years old.

As a toddler, I already had horses on my mind. My first word was not “Momma” or “Dadda” but “horsie.” And although I wasn’t yet able to ride, I can tell by the smile on my face, I was thinking about the day I’d be old enough to sit on a horse.

I was born into a decidedly non-horsey family. My Mother hoped I’d be a concert violinist. Unfortunately for her, I was tone deaf.

While my Father hoped I’d follow in his corporate footsteps.

And perhaps if I had applied myself, I would have given The Donald a run for his money but from my earliest days, all I wanted to do was hang out with horses. At first, pretend ones had to do but I mastered the art of riding with determination.

Until at the age of 3, I was allowed to graduate to the real thing.

Now there was no stopping me. I had found my passion and if I could have spent every hour of the day on a horse, I would have.

It didn’t matter if they were real. I’d practice driving models of horses that sat outside country stores.

I’d run into paddocks, grab a horse and try to convince my parents I really, really needed a horse. But alas, that never happened.

But I did have riding lessons. Soon I was winning ribbons and trophies.

And even when I didn’t come in first, I was still thrilled.

But nothing matched the joy of riding, of being a little girl on a big horse.

Of being able to ride over jumps at a young age and never feel any fear.

Whether it was leading a horse,

Or headed out on a round of cross country jumping,

The joy I felt when I was with a horse was something I can’t begin to describe.

And when I look back at my past from so far away

And I see the young girl that I was so in love with riding; so in love with horses.

I am thankful I now have the opportunity to come full circle, to have these magnificent animals in my life again. Thankful to Mountain Man who puts up with my horse addiction even though he thinks they are hay burners. Thankful to have had such a wonderful life.

Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I was a pink person even back then.

And although I have a million more photographs to share, I think I’ll call it a day before you run away. Thanks for visiting us on Red Pine Mountain. May all your life long dreams come true.