Sunday, November 11, 2007

The Mysterious Morgan Horse Club Meets Again



Flash back to age 10 when my life began to revolve around horses.

Today we had a reunion of the Mysterious Morgan Horse Club. Mind you, the club members really included me, my sister and her friend Susan. We would occasionally get a new member or two but they rarely stayed. The club was run by Judy Deist who lived down the street from us and really taught us everything we know about horses.

We were an interesting bunch of kids but we had fun. While involvement in the Morgan Horse world often required a substantial amount of money, we so wanted to be a part of it that we didn't care if we had to share horses and equipment between the three of us. We were the pluggers in the Morgan horse community and looking back we just crack up at the things we used to do (like selling turd birds as a fundraiser - yes, they were little creatures made out of horse and goat poop).

I'm a sentimental fool and am a keeper of items that remind me of special moments. So, that said I still boxes of artifacts from the Morgan horse club, ribbons I won at shows, speeches I wrote, newsletters I edited as a national officer and more. It was fun to dig out all of that old stuff. I told Zeb that maybe it was time to let go of some of it, but I still can't do yet. I want to share this special part of my life with the girls someday when they can understand it more. I want them to know their mother had a horse named Tiger who I loved and adored so very much, that I once won gold and silver medals riding him, that I worked hard doing something I loved and really appreciated the support and sacrifice my parents made for me. I hope that my girls find something they love just as much.

Anyway, the reunion was at my sister's house and quite fun. We reminisced and laughed out loud. What a great way to spend a Saturday. Good times.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

So much fun to reminisce about the good ole days. And fun for me to learn something new about you. Thanks for sharing.