Okay. So, I’m just going to skip over the lame excuses for not keeping up with my blog and move straight on to the actual post…except to say that life gets busy. Especially in the fall. ‘Nough said!
In early September, I went on our annual church women’s retreat. Now, there are many reasons for one to chose to go on a retreat…say the other army is advancing at a daunting pace? It would be perfectly acceptable for you to retreat. Unless you’re super macho, in which case you could take them on and fight them off Jason Bourne style. I, for one, would run away. Which is why you should ALL be glad that I’m not in our armed forces. I’m kind of a wuss that way…
Ahem. I think I’ve strayed from my point. Anyhoo, aside from being a great time to get up into the beautiful Colorado mountains, rest, play games and be really challenged by the speaker (and it was all of those things), I also had the opportunity to ride a horse!
Now usually I block out painful childhood memories of things like doing a school fundraiser at the local rodeo in my home state of Wyoming. The dust? The ropes? The animals ready to be wrangled? The huge belt buckles? The bull riding? It all seems a little…well…not up my alley. I think I’ve made my feelings about these things perfectly clear. But for some reason, I really wanted to ride a horse at this gig. I thought maybe it’d be cool. I thought maybe it would make ME cool.
Although I’m usually quite a scaredy cat, I wasn’t afraid of the huge horse-y with his bowling ball eye (that’s for you, Holly). I knew from my vast Wyoming experience that I should pet him between the eyes and speak soothingly and not yank on the reigns, etc. I suppose that made me kind of an expert.
We all swung up into the saddles (yes, it did feel like I was in a Western movie…) and away we went onto the rugged trail. Okay, so maybe RUGGED isn’t the right word, but go with me here. My horse’s name was Star. She was a strong and silent mount. My job was three-fold:
1. To make sure my horse didn’t eat any grass along the trail
2. To keep from running into trees
3. To slow Star down any time she started to run
Since all objectives were met, I’d say it was a success!
In the interest of full disclosure, I suppose I must tell you that the trail was well worn and that the horses were trained to follow each other regardless of the riders. But let’s keep that between us, k?
This is Star. Isn’t she pretty?
This is me dismounting from Star. Hey! Don’t make fun! I’m sure cowgirls in the olden days totally had a step stool to get off their horses. And the saddle horn was made for situations like this. Sheesh.