Winston Churchill knew what he was talking about when he said. “No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.¨  I know that, for me, that is truly the case.  I have spent countless hours freeing my mind and soul while riding. I have many fond memories of hilarious rides with my friends. I have been one of the lucky few, who have had the opportunity to have a pony as a small child and a horse as a teenager.  I have gone to school with horse-hair all over my clothes and scent of horse poo on my shoes -- as a 5th grader those things actually made you popular!  We lived in the city and kept the horse in the garage.  My friends would come home with me after school and we would take turns riding Princess up and down the alley behind our house.  I was heart broken when Princess was moved from our garage to my Aunt’s farm.  I know Princess probably loved the change but it took a while for me to get used to it.  The only time in my life I have been without a horse was during my early-married years between the ages of 18 and 29.  But, finally, I could not stand it any longer. I went out and bought the first horse that came along.  Like many who purchase a horse impulsively, I made a pretty big mistake.  That little mare took me on some wild rides and at the same time taught me a few valuable lessons.  I found I was not quite the horsewoman I thought I was.  I am still amazed at how much there is to learn.  I currently have two horses, “Cinnamon” a bay gelding and “Sissy” a black mare both of them are Tennessee Walkers.  My husband asks me “When do you think you will get over this horse crazy thing?” I tell him, I doubt that will ever happen!  I plan on being like the old lady in this poem -- and I am getting darn close to it now.

When I am an old Horsewoman

I shall wear turquoise and diamonds

And a straw hat that doesn’t suite me.

And I shall spend my social security on white wine and carrots

And sit in the alleyway of my barn and listen to the horse’s breath.

I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night

And ride the old bay gelding,

Across the moonstruck meadow if my old bones will allow

And when people come to call I will smile and nod as I walk past the gardens to the barn and show instead my flowers,

Growing inside the stalls fresh-lined with straw.

I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair, as if it were a jewel.

And I will be an embarrassment to all,

Who will not yet have found the peace in being free to have a horse be a best friend,

A friend who waits at midnight hour

With muzzle and nicker and patient eyes

For the kind of woman I will be when I am old

    Author unknown