Beware: Heavy horse content ahead.
There are horse bloggers out there. And I'm submitting this post for inclusion in the Horse Lover's Blog Carnival. But don't' worry. This blog won't go all horsey. Just an occasional bit about horses. This month's theme is First Impressions wherein I share my first memory of a horse.
rider, age 16 months
Brownie is foremost in my mind among horses and surely I owe my recent horse passion to memories of him/her. But before I launch into the short story of Brownie, let me share an earlier horsey experience. Here I am, aged sixteen months, mounted astride my first horse, whose name I've forgotten. This was my Christmas present in 1972. Did I call him/her anything? She wasn't one of those new-fangled ***rocking horses that make the clip-clop noise in time to the child's bouncing.
And somehow I remembered my mount being much larger. But can you believe how high I was off the ground? I don't think they make them this high these days. Good thing my little filly never bucked me off. My spring horse stayed at my grandparent's home, and that is the only time I played cowgirl, except for one year at Halloween; third grade, as I recall, when children were allowed attend school wearing costumes. Those were the days before minivans, and no doubt transporting this horse with all its metal parts would be no simple task. I'm not certain what ever became of my horse. Perhaps she was passed on to my cousins. Or maybe grandma kept her around at least fifteen years for when my sister came along. Can't remember her having a spring horse, though I do have photos of her dressed as a cowgirl when she was a toddler.
But then, what about Brownie? He/she was brown. And probably had a white blaze. The horse belonged to our landlords. One day I went along with mom, or dad, to pay our rent. The Blanks (I cannot recall their names, so they are the Blanks, plain and simple) owned at least thirty acres in Erwin, Tenn. which was later bisected by I-26 (and I-181 earlier than that, and probably a state route before then).
There was a red barn. Probably several horses. That day, Mrs. Blank had Brownie saddled up and near the fence. Since I was three or four, my memory of the event is vague except for the fact that I rode Brownie. Would someone put a toddler on a horse alone? Or did Mrs.Blank pluck me up and hold me in front of her? Or did she lead the horse with me on it's back? I've read that horses are especially mindful of children. Mrs. Blank understood that I was perfectly safe alone in the saddle.
Even though it was short and sweet, Brownie always entered my early childhood thoughts. Whenever we passed by the Blank's property I looked out the window trying to spot Brownie. Even though the Blank's probably don't still own horses, the barn still stands. So no matter what, that spot in the road is forever associated with my riding Brownie. Pretty powerful.
me & ma; steed in background
And then why I didn't develop a full-blown horse obsession as a girl is beyond my ken. Most girls love horses. But I loved books more. They were more accessible to me. My family didn't own land, or horses. Neither could they spare money to set me up in riding them. Yet, every time I visited my grandparents, I thought about horses for in the room in which I stayed hanged a print of a horse. Eventually my grandmother bought my own horse picture. Where it is now? I do not know.
The men of my family inspired my fondness for horses, cowboys, and all things western. Of the grandparents who gave me the spring horse, it was that grandfather who taught me the rudiments of horse communication. He was born at the turn of last century and grew up on a farm, plowing fields, and driving wagons. He gave me my first lesson with pretend reins. He taught me Gee and Haw. Left and right. And probably Whoa, too. The Whoa is right important.
Despite all my reading, I cannot remember My Friend Flicka, Black Beauty, Misty of Chincoteague or The Black Stallion. Did I read them? If I did, they were enough. They didn't fuel a horse obsession.
Jessica mounting up
Before I started taking riding lessons five or six weeks ago, I could count the number of times I'd ridden a horse on one hand. Riding ponies at the fair doesn't count. And that was once or twice, still coming in under five times in my life. Even though I didn't ride so much as a girl, teen, or young woman, I wanted my sister to have the experience. I took her to Warrior's Path State Park in Kingsport, Tenn. When she was 8 or 9 and we rode for an hour. She didn't love it or hate it. Or ask to go again.
I spent a few hours on horses one week at camp. One day the all the girls in my cabin went for a trail ride. My horse suffered through it all. When he reached a certain point and was within a half mile or so of the barn, he galloped out of line, around the other horses, and I dug in as we headed for his stall. He was probably what they call barn sour.
Then a day or two later we had a mini-rodeo where I rode in a tag team event.
***They're actually called spring horses, and I learned a bit about them here:
Spring horses are among the most modern class of toy horses.&The oldest spring horses appear to be made by Wonder Products Company of Collierville, Tennessee. The company manufactured wooden rocking-horses in the 40's and switched to molded plastic horses on springs with metal frames in the 50's. The Wonder Horse was the popular model by this company.
Today, the Hedstrom Corporation is the most well known manufacturer of spring horses in the United States. Hedstrom, who has been manufacturing toys for more than 80 years, began spring horse production in its Ashland, Ohio plant in 1988. The spring horse operation was moved to the Bedford, Pennsylvania plant in the spring of 1997. The spring horses are roto-molded and the material used is LLDPE, Linear Low Density Polyethylene.
