Posted by: secretagent39 | June 9, 2012

New Inspirations

New Mexico is on fire.  That’s not an inspiration for writing-just a frantic observation.  I wanted to go to Pecos today but I’m kind of afraid to go anywhere due to the high fire risk.  Today is Get into National Parks Free Day. It would be great to head up into the mountains, especially since it’s so hot and dry in Albuquerque, but it’s so precarious out there… Smoke is in the air and, you know what they say:

“They said someday you’ll find
All who love are blind
Oh, when your heart’s on fire
You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes…”

Only you can prevent wildfires.  Sing it Smokey. I guess I’ll hang out and see what develops.  More than anything, I’d like to simply get out of the house and go for a drive.  The Rez horses have lots of babies this time of year and they are so darned cute I just can’t stand it.

I wanna horse.

I’ve been thinking about how much I’ve wanted another horse for some time now.  I have fond memories and love, love, love the big lugs.  I love grooming a horse-it’s so intimate and fulfilling for both of us.  I miss it.  Of course, I miss riding, too.  *sigh*  They are so danged expensive.

If wishes were fishes or horses in this case, I’d wish for a Quarter Horse mare, about 12-13 years old, Blue Roan, Dun, or Overo Paint in color, with a sweet but sassy disposition.  I prefer a cutting horse as I really enjoy working with them but, as they say, “All hat-No cattle.”

Lord knows I’ve got the hats, the boots, the jeans, and I think I still have a curry comb, hoof pick, and gloves.  These things do not make a cowgirl and her horse-the amount of gear needed is insurmountable. Or, in this case, un-mountable due to lack of said horse. I remember going to the feed store and learning about everything I needed for care and riding of my horse.  Good golly it was expensive!  Head stall, lead, reins sold separately, saddle-wayyyyy too expensive so I opted for bareback pad (and grew some muscles I never knew existed), fly spray, brushes, combs, picks, fly covers, and then there’s the feed-alfalfa, hay, grains.  The list goes on and on and on and on…

Oh, but how I long for the *smell of a pony!

When I was about 10, or so, my grandmother paid for riding lessons for me.  She road with me for the first several lessons and then would just drop me off.  I remember the ride out to the ranch-way out in the grasslands of California-the smell of the barn would hit me about ¼ of a mile out and I would breathe deeply and sigh longingly to one day own my own ranch. 

At first I was very afraid of horses because they were so big.  I learned that, while big animals, they have that flight thing goin’ on and rarely would they intentionally try to hurt you.  If they stepped on you, it was an accident or your fault. Kinda like dogs-depends on how they were brought up. One day, I was bitten in the stomach by a young stallion as we walked past his stall.  My horse, a mare in season, cut the corner too closely (because I wasn’t paying attention) and this young boy was just so full of himself and excited that he galloped to the edge of the fence and  just reached right over and nipped at whatever was in front of him.  It turned out to be me and I had a huge bruise in the middle of my tiny tummy.  I swore I would never ride another horse again for my entire life!  I slid off my horse and cried and cried! The wrangler made me get back up on my horse and finish the ride.  I remember crying but, as we were walking along the fence line, my horse started to get skittish.  I had to focus and try to control her and completely forgot about my aching bruise. Turned out there was some plastic on the ground and ol’ Buttercup (An unfortunate name considering how much I loved Roy Rogers and couldn’t stand Dale Evans and her stupid Buttercup ‘cause, you know, Roy was MY boyfriend!) was afraid of it and dancing and prancing as if it were a snake.

After that I rode a horse named, “Popsicle”, and didn’t have any more problems with that young stallion as Popsicle was a gelding.  He was a gentle boy-a former racehorse-with lots of giddy-up.  A tall, sorrel, Quarter Horse with a big ol’ round butt and just the sweetest disposition; he was my favorite and I rode him for every lesson.  He used to sniff me all over before I got up on him and didn’t have a mean bone in his body.  I loved him. Those lessons lasted a summer and I believe it was one of the best summers of my life.

So now -summer in New Mexico- I wanna horse-we’re on fire-the day is whittling away.  If I can’t have a horse, I’ll take in the view.

Some days… it just doesn’t get any better than this. I’m gonna choose a hat and get on with it.

Don’t need no stinkin’ cattle!

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