"Horses don't just remind me of my childhood, they remind me of who I wanted to be when I was taking them for granted." So many good lines I wanted to highlight, but this one felt so soulful to me. That bit about rich girl Morgan had me laughing too. Was poetry, let me tell you. I could read about your childhood every week! I went to college in the Midwest, more cornfields than horses. Still, reading your piece made me nostalgic for some reason. But the first horse I rode was my (Caribbean/very non-elite) boyfriend's quarter horse. (What the hell is a horse that size doing on such a small island you may ask, but there are salt-of-the-earth horse people everywhere not just the elite equestrian types.) I was about 15. Nowhere to gallop, so I trotted along on this gorgeous chocolate steed on a quiet street. My boyfriend had the reins, but I was terrified. Way too hot. But felt grand and stately at the same time. Guess a horse can do that to you, as you know more than me. My mom always dreamt of galloping wildly on horseback in an open field. Sadly, she has mobility challenges now, so it will never happen. But I'll let her read this:) She'll love Apache! What a beauty!
I’m glad the Midwest sang through in the piece! And I love the reminder of all the other horse people in the Caribbean. Sounds like a magical experience. 💛
Yeah but what happened to Apache heart smitten emoji...Great piece-reminded me of competing in horse shows at the old Sharon Shire Farms (#RIP?). Now I miss horses. Thanks Shangrilogs! (wink)
I haven't spent time on a horse in over 20 years, but on Friday my neighbor asked if I wanted to go to the livestock auction barn and look at the wild horses they'd gotten in. Horses just feel right, you know? The smell, the back-and-forth of trust between you and this animal that is big enough to make the choice to listen to you or even get near you, the body language-- it was like stepping back in time to teenage me hopping the fence to pet the neighbors' back country hunting horses. I have two kids and a house in a subdivision but by the time I was done seeing the horses in the barn, I was ready to throw it all away on a little chestnut mare and her week-old colt, the only horse who came up to see me at the fence and ate out of my hand (without any of that classic Mare Glare). I hope whomever won the bidding on her knows what a good horse they got.
“Horses don’t just remind me of my childhood, they remind me of who I wanted to be when I was taking them for granted.” As a former horse girl, this line hit me hard. After years of building a career, mothering two now-teenage girls and creating a rich, sweet life with my husband, I’ve often wondered who I am now, and if horses would ground me back to a place of possibilities and wonder. I’m beginning to think THIS is why middle-aged women return to their horse roots. The pull of the barn smell - and all it encompasses - is almost primal.
I loved reading about Susan, she reminded me so much of my first riding instructor. At the time, Audra Holt scared me to death. She was tiny, fierce, had no time for fools, and you were going to learn something hard even if you didn’t want to. Today, my daughter has a soccer coach like Audra, and I love that woman, now appreciating it all.
And yeah, rich girl horse enemies, those never go away. Thank you for writing this beautiful essay.
Thank you for reading it! I love this idea about horses, that we come back to them to come back to ourselves. <3 Appreciate you leaving this comment very much.
"Neither Susan nor horses have time for bullshit.' Agree.
"Horses don't just remind me of my childhood, they remind me of who I wanted to be when I was taking them for granted." So many good lines I wanted to highlight, but this one felt so soulful to me. That bit about rich girl Morgan had me laughing too. Was poetry, let me tell you. I could read about your childhood every week! I went to college in the Midwest, more cornfields than horses. Still, reading your piece made me nostalgic for some reason. But the first horse I rode was my (Caribbean/very non-elite) boyfriend's quarter horse. (What the hell is a horse that size doing on such a small island you may ask, but there are salt-of-the-earth horse people everywhere not just the elite equestrian types.) I was about 15. Nowhere to gallop, so I trotted along on this gorgeous chocolate steed on a quiet street. My boyfriend had the reins, but I was terrified. Way too hot. But felt grand and stately at the same time. Guess a horse can do that to you, as you know more than me. My mom always dreamt of galloping wildly on horseback in an open field. Sadly, she has mobility challenges now, so it will never happen. But I'll let her read this:) She'll love Apache! What a beauty!
I’m glad the Midwest sang through in the piece! And I love the reminder of all the other horse people in the Caribbean. Sounds like a magical experience. 💛
Yeah but what happened to Apache heart smitten emoji...Great piece-reminded me of competing in horse shows at the old Sharon Shire Farms (#RIP?). Now I miss horses. Thanks Shangrilogs! (wink)
Sweet Apache went home with his owner and now I don’t know! Resisting the urge to deep google because I don’t have a paddock nor do I have 50k 😂
LOL. The only 50k you need is Olympia (https://www.everlongendurance.com/olympic-mountains)...
Your writing is so enjoyable, Kelton. Well with the shoutouts !!
Thank you so much, Bailey!! Now I just need to work on my response time 🙃
Enough denim to tarp the whole building. Very familiar. And I want Apache, too!
Loved this Kelton! 😍
I haven't spent time on a horse in over 20 years, but on Friday my neighbor asked if I wanted to go to the livestock auction barn and look at the wild horses they'd gotten in. Horses just feel right, you know? The smell, the back-and-forth of trust between you and this animal that is big enough to make the choice to listen to you or even get near you, the body language-- it was like stepping back in time to teenage me hopping the fence to pet the neighbors' back country hunting horses. I have two kids and a house in a subdivision but by the time I was done seeing the horses in the barn, I was ready to throw it all away on a little chestnut mare and her week-old colt, the only horse who came up to see me at the fence and ate out of my hand (without any of that classic Mare Glare). I hope whomever won the bidding on her knows what a good horse they got.
The gift of their approach!! Feels there should be local equine centers for wayward women.
“Horses don’t just remind me of my childhood, they remind me of who I wanted to be when I was taking them for granted.” As a former horse girl, this line hit me hard. After years of building a career, mothering two now-teenage girls and creating a rich, sweet life with my husband, I’ve often wondered who I am now, and if horses would ground me back to a place of possibilities and wonder. I’m beginning to think THIS is why middle-aged women return to their horse roots. The pull of the barn smell - and all it encompasses - is almost primal.
I loved reading about Susan, she reminded me so much of my first riding instructor. At the time, Audra Holt scared me to death. She was tiny, fierce, had no time for fools, and you were going to learn something hard even if you didn’t want to. Today, my daughter has a soccer coach like Audra, and I love that woman, now appreciating it all.
And yeah, rich girl horse enemies, those never go away. Thank you for writing this beautiful essay.
Thank you for reading it! I love this idea about horses, that we come back to them to come back to ourselves. <3 Appreciate you leaving this comment very much.
Really enjoyed reading this. Thank you for linking to my horse/buddy story at the end!
Of course! I loved that story!
We will get you back in the saddle for sure.