Let’s say you decide to write a blog about horses. But you know practically Zero about horses. What to say, what to say? You could tell about your own horse experience.
1. Family used to go horseback riding–maybe two or three times–on trips to Arizona in station wagon.
2. As an exchange student to Switzerland in 1975 with the Experiment in International Living, I chose the horseback riding option. Our group (including our Swiss “brothers” and “sisters”) spent a week living on a farm and riding. At one point, my horse began to gallop like crazy through a field and I felt totally out-of-control.
3. My friend, Bertha, has horses. Also, another friend, Deb, owned a couple of horses. I rode with them occasionally in past years.
End of personal horse experience.
My brother Scot’s family, on the other hand, comes from a horse-loving background. (Not Scot.) I’m talking about his wife, Karen. She has shared her love of equines with her family, and quite recently they acquired three horses.
Please meet the three horses. I met them last Saturday on the outskirts of my lower Michigan hometown, Yale. I would like to introduce you by name, but am waiting for a call-back from Scot. One of them is named Sheza. Hopefully, by the end of this blog you will know the other names, as well.
A little aside. Today is my baby brother’s 50th birthday!! Isn’t that cool? He doesn’t look like he’s 50, does he? Doesn’t he still look like a little whipper-snapper? Why, it was just yesterday that Scot, Tim and I were running helter-skelter through the kitchen and around through the living room and back through the dining room, chasing each other in big circles. Where did the years go?
But back to horses. Karen and the girls ride the beauties regularly. (Not sure if nephew Doug and his girlfriend, Crystal ride.) Scot says the does not. Karen had a horse accident the other week. Two of the horses mired in unexpected mud near the creek and one of them–the one Karen was riding–ended up falling on her leg. Not a good scenario. A horse weighs a lot. Thanks to Karen’s expert ridership, she was able to avoid a very dangerous situation. Only one slight bruise remained on her leg, as of last weekend.
I loved visiting their horses.
Turns out the not-feeling-good horse had a bout of colic. She or he is doing well now.
This just in! We now have the names of the horses. Brother Scot called me back with the names. Sheza was the sick one. Libby wore braids. And Magic is that black stallion chomping grass. (I think he’s a stallion. I think that means he’s a boy. But really don’t know these horse terms.)
Hope you blog readers enjoyed this stroll through the horse pasture. Do you have any horse tails (I mean horse tales) of your own to share?
Happy birthday again, Scot! Consider this blog the second half of your birthday present from your sis.
P.S. Every blog reader knows where “A horse is a horse, of course, of course” comes from, right? It’s the Famous Mr. Ed! (And now it’s the Famous Ms. Sheza, Ms. Libby and Mr. Magic.)