I can’t help it. They are in my blood.

Are there some smells which make your heart ache? Or sing? Like the fragrance of a new baby’s head, it is so sweet and soft and just makes your ovaries ache even if you are pretty sure you are done having kids. Or like the mixed scent of evergreen, woodsmoke, and cinnamon which reminds me of hanging Christmas ornaments with my little brother. Here is the familiar fragrance I smelled today. Leather, sweet hay, grain, dust, and horse manure. Oh, it makes me want to throw responsibilities to the wind and spend all afternoon riding through fields of tall grass. These aromas are hovering over every good memory of my ‘tween and early teen years. I know you all think of me as set firmly in my suburban ways, and I am — but at heart…..I might just be a little bit of a country girl. I love horses, I love everything about them, including this wonderful smell.

This morning The Son and I went to a horse ranch with his Friday morning playgroup. We were both really looking forward to it, but as soon as we stepped in the stable, and that aromal, that glorious earthy smell hit me, I was very nearly in tears as those memories came rushing back. I had my very first horse back riding lesson for my eleventh birthday. I was horse crazy, had read all the equine books I could, taken off the New Kids posters in my room and replaced them with horse posters. My parents are from the original horse country, Lexington, Kentucky. My maternal grandfather, Pa, worked on a thoroughbred (race horse) farm for decades.

The summer after that first cold January riding lesson, I went to visit Ma and Pa for a couple of weeks. At the farm there was a 10 year old, thoroughbred/quarter horse mix gelding. Pa called him All Flash with no Cash, Flash was pretty worthless compared to some of the fastest race horses in the world. He was anything but worthless to me. Those two weeks all I did was sleep, eat, and ride Flash.

First time on “Flash”

A month later, Pa called and said Flash’s owner said I could have him. I had my very own horse! I renamed him Granddaddy’s Prize (G.P).  For the next four years, I fed, watered and groomed.  I cleaned more stalls than you could imagine. I rode him, I talked to him, I braided his main and tail, I loved that horse. I did some showing with him, but more than anything he was just a member of our family.

What would I not do for that figure back?

He was given to be used as a therapy horse for kids with disabilities when we moved to a state where we just could not keep him.

Today I learned horseback riding is like riding a bike, you just don’t forget, although my muscles may have. (ouch!) I also learned The Son loves horses. He talked about riding a “Horsey” all week long, and cried when I pulled him from the saddle. (unlike many of the kids around us who cried getting on). I am thinking in a few years, we may need to ditch the gymnastics lessons for horseback riding. If for no other reason then so I can go smell the stables.

The kids waiting their turn.

“Let me at the Horsey Mama.”

Giddy up.

Whew, being an equestrian is hard work.

Filed under NaBloPoMo, Photography, The Son | Comments (2)