Confessions from the Farm House and riding a horse

I have come here today to confess my shame to all of you, Oh, I'm so ashamed...said with head bowed...I am afraid in all my tales, I have not really, truly, been totally honest with you. Well it's really just a little deception...
Alas, I wasn't as fearless as I seemed to be when I was a little squirt, (mean as the devil, feisty, and mischievous), but I was a little chicken from time to time...lol...even of the old snakes in that pond...for just a minute....as long as I wasn't touching it and had Spot along...

Wait, now that I think of it I did tell you I was scared of that old Tom Turkey and I did say I wouldn't go past the Haunted Tree, (not that I believed in them Ghost stories) just didn't see any sense in finding out the hard way...giggle. So I guess I wasn't totally dishonest...Bwahahahah

But tonight I will tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth about one part of farm life that scared the Bee-Jesus, out of me, and that is horses...ok, stop laughing, I am scared spitless of riding horses. I don't mind getting close enough to pet one ...if some one pushes me into it, and is standing close enough to keep it from attacking me, ok, ok, maybe they won't attack me, but at that age I would have rather held a snake than ride a horse, and I wasn't going to touch a snake on purpose either...

One story my Dear Sister, (who by the way LOVED horses and would've lived on one if she could have,) loves to tell about is ........

One Summer when we were visiting the farm house, from New Orleans, My Granddaddy had a wooden leg and couldn't walk around alot, so he always rode the mare to the pastures to check on the cows and the crops, mostly corn and some cotton. Well this Summer I was about 3 and she was about 5. Granddaddy always took her with him to go check on the farm, I wouldn't get close to the horse. Well now, one Day he, in all his wisdom, decided enough was enough, I was going to learn to ride., he made Momma hand me to him and oh, my did all H*ll break loss...he went off down the lane with me in front of him on the horse screaming so loud, that when we passed that old Cider Tree if there had been a haunt in it, it would have run for dear life back to were it was it came from...it was a blood curdling scream...oh my not a pretty sound or sight....mean while back at the Ranch...lol...Dear Sister was standing at the front gate screaming loud enough to wake the dead down at the old cemetery 3 miles away. That wasn't turning out quit the way he'd hoped, Mom said she heard him coming back at a run, that horse was ready to get back to the barn, he told Mom, in quite a flustrate tone...here....take this screaming young'um and give me that other screaming young'um....needless to say I was quite ticked at him for several days and Dear Sis was one happy camper, all smiles cause she had her throne back after all she was his riding companion, how dare I try to take her place...and old Dixie trotted off back down the lane as happy as a lark, all was right in her world again. I could have sworn that darn thing looked over her shoulder and sneered at me as she trotted off, she never did like me...well I never liked her either. But needless to say he never tried to put ME on a horse again, he had learned his lesson...

Everyone in my family loved riding, wonder where I came from...I don't have a picture of Dean or Grandaddy on the horse but I did find this one of Jim, look how natural and comfortable he & my city cousin looked...that's bad even a CITY cousin (from Beaumont, TX.) who only came to the farm one week out of the year, loved to ride and was comfortable with it.

Here is one of me, when I was about 11, the only reason I was on this thing's back is my best friend was there to ride and I couldn't let her know how chicken I was...after all I was a farm girl and she was a city girl...oh the shame of it...another city person who wasn't afraid of a horse..

You can tell I was holding on for dear life and if that think had'a moved I'd died right then and there. LOL, Mr. Wigham, an older Gentlemen who rented the front pasture to keep his horses in, at that time, was standing right behind the camera, till Linda took my picture. She loved to ride so since there was only one horse there tame enough to ride ( how lucky for me), I sweetly let my guest ride all she wanted, after all I could ride anytime, now couldn't I.......hey it sounded good and she didn't find out I was to chicken to ride. Don't you love my flannel shirt, big leg rolled up jeans and saddle oxfords with bobby socks, typical early 50's dress. I even had on a belt...wow, I never wear belts any more.

Ok, so now you know my deep dark sins. I will try to do better next time. Oh, we also had a ghost in the Farm House...I kid you not, even our CockerSpaniel, Honey was afraid to go in the living room after dark, but then that's another story........Y'all come back now, ya hear.