I went to a huge birthday luncheon yesterday. There must have been thirty women, of whom I knew about five. I rarely attend big functions because I can’t hear. I take my response cues from visual indicators when a person speaks to me.
If you smilingly tell me you’re having your head amputated tomorrow, I will grin and respond, “That’s terrific. Sounds like fun.”
But I like the guest of honor, so I crafted a small gift, filled out a lovely Dollar Tree card and hitched a ride in neighbor Lynda’s fancy new white BMW.
By now you might be wondering why I titled this post “Pony Club Wanna’ Be”.
Here’s why: In an attempt to meet a few strangers seated near me I began asking, “So, what do you do when you aren’t attending birthday luncheons.” The woman across from me said she rides horses.
Horses! I was immediately transported to my youth when I so BADLY wanted a horse. I’d watched both the movie National Velvet and the early 1960’s TV show of the same name. At one point the TV show offered a colt to the viewer that came up with the best name Colt name.
I mailed in many name possibilities. One was Misty, after Misty of Chincoteague. Certain I would win, I begged my mother to allow us to house Misty in our backyard. We lived in a suburban split level on 1/4 acre. Amazingly, she agreed easily. In retrospect granting Misty a home was a simple “yes”, since the odds of my actually manifesting that animal was slim to none.
I didn’t win, but later I had the opportunity to (sort of) have a horse. One winter friend Ann Purcell’s parents took in two camp horses, animals ridden hard at summer camps and needing foster care for winter. Ann and I spent hours riding those animals. Her’s horse was named Party Line, far more spirited than the short, round, brown and white animal I rode. (name forgotten) I loved old What’s-His-Name.
Such a delicious experience. I can still picture looking down the road between my horse’s ears, watching Party Line’s russet rump and tail swaying. There was one big hill where Party Line would take off at a gallop. What’s-His-Name and I would race along behind. I could still hear then, and the sound of thundering hooves was thrilling.
One day in late spring our mother’s gave us permission to cut school and spend the entire day riding. We rode those animals all the way into Newark, Delaware, and right to our houses. Yay! Even though it wasn’t Misty, I finally did get to have a horse in my own backyard!
I’m glad I stepped out of my silent comfort zone and went to yesterday’s party. It gave me an opportunity to reflect back on that happy horsey experience.