Well, this is my first attempt at “blogging,” so go easy on me! I always loved to write, so unlike Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook pages, I don’t need to include pictures and I won’t get slammed for sharing too much! I decided to write about my life and love of horses, pre-Arizona, so others who love horses and don’t own one yet, can see how this girl who spent summers sailing with four brothers on Cape Cod became a cowgirl. Well, kind of. I still haven’t learned to rope!
I didn’t grow up with horses, but I fell in love with them the first time I saw a little white pony at a birthday party in first grade in my suburban neighborhood of Brockton, Massachusetts. Coming from a middle-class family of seven, we didn’t have the money or a place for me to have a horse. I was the kid in the 4-H Horse Project in another town who offered to pick up your horse’s poop, hold your horse’s lead while you went to the bathroom, held the gates open during the shows, and kept her “horse clothes” in a pile so she could smell like a horse later on.
The first time I rode a horse I was about nine. We were on a family trip to Niagra Falls. His name was Smokey, a little dappled gray that I held back at the end of the ride so I could “run” to catch up! Then there were the three summers at Camp Tattapanam, a Girl Scout camp where I first learned to ride, muck stalls, and feed a horse. We had a “show” at the end and I proudly rode Becky, then Oscar Mayer, and finally Romart. When I was in junior high, my French teacher gave lessons to a few horse-crazy girls on her horses after school. It was so much fun, learning to balance by riding bareback and doing “around the world.” This was back in the early ’70s, before liability releases, helmets, and “helicopter parents”.
As I started high school, my mum would treat me to a trail ride a couple of times a year. I’d get dropped off at some stable and she’d pick me up an hour later. As a teen working on Cape Cod in the summers, I’d hitchhike to a local stable and go for a trail ride. Then there was college. When I spent my junior year abroad from Bates, I went to Spain for my junior year abroad, found a place to take lessons, and actually rode some gorgeous Andalusians!
Aside from devouring everything I could read about horses, that was it until I’d worked my first year as a high school Spanish teacher and was finally able to buy one. Her name was Mi Quilla. She was a 4-year-old, well-bred AQHA blood bay. And pregnant! I boarded her in the next town and learned so much from my new “barn friends.” The next year, I moved to Arizona and sold her, giving the colt, “Tango” to a friend. With that money, I moved to Tucson in 1987.
So no, I didn’t grow up on a ranch. I’ve never seriously competed in any equestrian sports. I figured since I didn’t grow up with horses, I’d never be good enough to compete. I’ve owned 7 horses and 3 mules in 42 years out west. Lots of trailers and lots of trucks. Mostly green broke horses, and lots of trail riding, camping, and fun along the way. Equestrians are the greatest people. Subscribe to my blog, and you’ll learn more about my adventures with horses, some important things I’ve learned over the years, and, well, I still don’t know! My dear friend Sandy always says, “You should write a book!” Who knows…. but this is a start!