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Wednesday, January 5, 2011


I have thought about starting a blog for a very long time. I've been reading other people's blogs for almost four years now, and really enjoy them. Some are better than others, so I've gotten a pretty good idea of what I like and what I don't. An interesting topic? Perfect. Humor? Awesome. Photos? Good idea. Good grammar and spelling? Definitely. I am a huge reader and have no patience anymore with bad writing, much less bad grammar and spelling (I say that knowing that I undoubtedly will make my own mistakes here!).

Anyway, the right thing for me hadn't quite gelled - until today. I was driving down the road that I like to think of as my own personal "Highway to Heaven," because it's the road I take to my friend's little farm. It's a lovely, hilly country road, only a few miles from my own road and the true 'burbs, but the minute I turn on it something happens. I feel a weight lift, and my everyday thoughts and burdens begin to float away. "I'm going to RIDE now, and that is SO GOOD. I will be in the company of my dear friend, and get to touch and look at and be with and feel that marvelous creature known as HORSE. All is well."

Beyond that overriding "feel good" thought train, I had a few other things floating around in my head at the same time this morning. My friend's blog (Does she still have it? She's a writer, too.), the temperature (very cold), the book I'm currently reading ("The Help" - highly recommended!), and roads (as in how scary my "highway" actually is to navigate, with no shoulders). Hmmm.... let's see... reading....blogs.... roads.... horses... riding....

WHAM. It hit me. Why not write about my life, as a rider? The road I have followed to where I am now in my equestrian career? Riding is a thread that has been constant and woven throughout my life, and is a central part of who I am. My riding pal is probably tired of hearing all my stories but hopefully there are other people out there who might be interested, or have followed a similar path, or who might wonder why the heck a middle-aged lady can be transformed into a blubbering wreck by simply viewing a video of a red horse galloping in a field. (That would be Secretariat... sometimes I'm not too original.)

I'm going to start at the beginning, of course, with a memory that does not exist. Just a photograph...

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