Dawn found Ann (or Anne — I can’t remember or I never could decide PLUS spellling was and is hard) on eBay! Altogether now as one, let us praise eBay because you can find anything on eBay, even your own grandmother!
Total cost for the horse, s&h included, is $24.15, a bargain in the popular world of something you want really really bad and are willing to cough up $ in order to obtain.
I”ll post a picture when she comes in via United States Parcel Post. Oh, her noble gaze! I’d forgotten how much soul and sympathy were painted into the eyes of that toy horse.
After playing phone tag over the 4th of July weekend, I finally talked to a very nice woman who has two horses for sale. We had a great conversation about her walking horses — and the more we talked, the more I realized I was terrified. Maybe “terrified” is too strong a word (and it wasn’t fear of the seller — she was great); it was the icy chilly cold of cold feet.
Maybe this is what reluctant grooms feel during the moment before “I do” when they ask themselves, “do I really?” Maybe this is what the parachutists feels before he or she leaps from the plane in his or her parachute, toes on the edge of eternity. Maybe it is akin to those moments in the grocery store when, befuddled before an array of toothpaste, the consumer becomes incapable of chosing between minty mint or mint minty.
Anyway, I realized I wasn’t up to doing this at the moment. Not riding a horse, not owning a horse, certainly not buying one. I didn’t understand half the terminology the seller was using. I have no idea what kind of tree my saddle has, I know nothing about Tennesee Walking Horses, etc etc etc.
In short, I realized I wasn’t ready and that I was mostly wasting this woman’s time and that I should really really get off the phone as fast as possible.
I felt like a freshman girl who has called a senior boy on whom she has a crush.
Then I went back to Horsetopia and looked at more horses.
I’ve tried this a couple of times and I’m still a long ways away. I admit, I sort of thought it wasn’t possible (not really) until I saw another rider doing it today. She did not have her feet in the stiffups and yet, she posted! I didn’t even notice that her feet weren’t in the stirrups until the teacher pointed this out! “See,” said Lynn, like she’s doing.”
I felt that i had witnessed a miracle! Here was the rider going around the ring at a nice trot and she was lifting herself up out of the saddle in what looked to me like an effortless fashion.
So it’s true! It can be done! And I thought that “posting without stirrups” was a metaphor or poetic license.
So I tried again. I tried squeezing my inner thighs, but felt mostly like an old Calvin and Hobbs cartoon. Calvin kept making dreadful faces and then looking back over his shoulder while Hobbs said, “Nope. Nothing. Not yet.” Calving was trying to make his rump light up like a firefly, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing happend. Posting without the stirrups felt like that. Nope. Nothing. Not yet.
If it would do any good at all, I would hurl myself onto the floor and explode into a weeping rage. By “do any good,” I mean if it (the tantrum) would produce a change in the weather. A series of big-butt thunderstorms passed through Central Ohio. Yea and verily, I saw the multi-pronged bolts of lightning strike the ground and from my vantage point in my car, the ground they struck looked pretty close to my stable.
So, funny pants* and all, I came right back home but stopped at the grocery and bought stuff. Just stuff. Beer. Cherries. Sliced kiwi fruits. Cherry pie. Soup. Aged gouda.
If I can’t ride, then I’ll graze.
*My summer riding tights are funny pants, looking almost like something you’d jog in but for the faux-leather patches on the knees and the muddy paddock boots on my feet. I think the boots gave me away as a true eccentric. God. Remember when you were a teenager and wouldn’t have shown up dead in public wearing such awful clothes? Times change, at least in your head.