The Horse with A Roman Nose

Yes, actually, that's a true statement. That horse had a longer looking head and as it narrowed to his muzzle, the angle began to curve slightly downward. What a special looking horse! NOT!
I didn't care for them at all...I wanted a beautiful horse who could run like the wind. And, I got him. Rounding the last curve to approach our house on the hill out in the country, I sat next to the window on Bus #25! Yep, rode that dumb bus for many years.
Mr. Worrell drove it. He obviously didn't like the country ( I'm not sure he liked anything or anybody ) and I got on his nerves! Go figure! On my 9th birthday, we rounded that curve and as he pulled to a grinding halt in the middle of the gravel road, I lifted my eyes up the driveway and exploded!
Standing with a brand new saddle, blanket and bridle was the most gorgeous paint gelding I'd ever seen! WOW! My hundred petticoats 'neath my royal blue skirt bounced up and down as my Penny Loafers carried me like the wind.
That boy was tied to the white rail fence beside the mailbox. As I ran, dropped books and screamed in delight, daddy came bouncing out of the dairy barn to meet me.
He said, "Happy Birthday, daughter. He's a 3 year old gelding I bought from Bill Swanner." I didn't care...I jumped in the saddle and rode off down the road. The name of the gift became Commanche. Wrong choice, for he lived up to his name.
Basically, he was 'green broke' ... meaning broke to ride, sort of. He had a long way to go, baby. The next day I entered the pasture and caught him, clipped my lead line to his halter and led him to the garage to saddle him. He wasn't happy. I didn't care.
I led him out into the drive and placed my left foot in the stirrup. Once aboard, we turned to head out the drive for a day's pleasure. Not to be. Commanche, remember? He began to 'crow hop' (meaning just kicking both back feet up a little into the air) and then, he began to buck. Small buck, but buck.
Jim was home (my brother) and he came and got on that beautiful, dumb horse! Dumb because he didn't realize what a great home he would have!! lolol and, ME!
I stood and watched as Jim rode that gelding down the pasture hill to the bottom land. There was a 'slew' of water that ran and long way through the middle of the far pasture there. He kicked that horse into high gear and rode him to death. Round and round the slew, across the slew and wore him down.
When Commanche came walking up the drive, he'd had IT. So, I got to jump on and enjoy riding then.
The most fascinating part of that entire scenerio? My brother didn't give a whistle over horses! But, for the next few weeks, he'd ride the horse down so I could get on. One day I decided to just ride. Wrong choice.
I had Commanche in the calf pasture. I'm glad, it was a softer landing. Remember, I'm 9 years old. I thought I was Annie Oakley, but I was just me. He bucked, I hit the ground, the tears came and I grabbed the reins and led him to the barn. My dad was milking cows, had his tall rubber boots on and said, lead him through here and give him to me.
Now, he was angry with the horse...forgot his boots were wet from cow, uhhh, stuff and water...my stirrups were my length (he was 6' tall)...and, he stepped into the saddle. Wrong formula. The horse bucked, the slippery boots flew out of the very short stirrups and my dad hit the ground. He led the horse back to me and said, 'he'll be sold this week." End of Commanche's life on our farm.
Sold him. Found a nine year old gelding that was as gentle as a breeze, brought him home and loved him for years. I write of the farm often, but after all, I didn't leave the farm until age 23. We had many tremendous experiences on the farm and of course, we were shaping our lives.
I credit parents, always, for their love and strong values passed on to us. But, I also love the old days we were privileged to experience. Young folks will never know about stopping to buy a bottled drink out of the ice chest in the store. They'll never dig under the cushions for one more penny or nickel to complete the deal so everyone in the car can have a soda. A loaf of bread for a quarter; a hamburger for a quarter; a bag of chips for a nickel; a mound of groceries in the basket every Saturday for a whopping $35; a ride through Cameron Park and picnics under the giant, old oak trees and so much more.
We ran, chased, played, studied and passed Life 101 back then. Baby Boomers we are...but, I wouldn't have it any other way. Life was slower, more enriched and robust with experiences. We didn't fear drive-by shootings, robbery on the parking lot or worse. And, in those days, we rarely locked our doors. There was trust, integrity, love, patience and more.
Did we know our neighbors? Certainly. Would we be there for them, of course. Life was an entirely different level back in our days. And, from all of that Essence of Life, I learned to be independent, assertive, caring and respectful of all. If you hesitate and think about it, our era steeped us in all the 'right stuff'! It's difficult to be obnoxious or rude, disrespectful or discourteous and, that makes me proud.
Parents, aunts and uncles and goodest 'ol grammas...carved some good folks out of us. I'm facing one more huge change in my life. I bet some of you have and will, as well. Aren't ya glad we have inner strength to pull us through and...for me? My faith in the Lord steeps me in comfort, calm and the ability to face medical challenges now. I'm not sure how a non-believer gets through ordeals, tragedy and loss, but I'm thankful I do have Him on my side!!
Pause and have a cup of coffee as you reflect on your past. Don't sit and think of the wrong things, the bad events or the worst times in your life. Reflect on the positives, the celebrations and the victories you had as a family. Sometimes, we do need to JUST SIT AND THINK! Would you like cream and sugar?