When I was fourteen years old, I had a friend named Paula. She went to my church and was a year younger than I was.
One day, Paul invited me to go with her for a long weekend to her family farm. We were living in Sumter, South Carolina, at the time, and evidently, their farm was right over the North Carolina line.
Paula told me that she had a horse they kept there, and we could go horseback riding together. This sounded like fun so I agreed, even though Paula and I were not close friends. I liked her and her family, and thought it would be great spending time with her and getting to know her
better. When we arrived at the farm we unpacked and she immediately took me outside to visit with her horse. There was a small barn near the house and a fenced corral around it. The horse could wander in and out and was taken care of by someone who lived nearby. It was a beautiful spring day and I was eager to learn how to ride a horse. I was a city girl
and had never been around them. I thought this would be an interesting experience. As we approached the corral, the horse came out of the barn to greet Paula. It was either a small horse or a pony that I saw. He was quite pretty with tan colored hide and a dark mane. Paula showed me how to feed him an apple and the horse quickly gobbled it up.
I gently patted his coat and stroked his face. This was going to be awesome! He was such a beautiful creature.
Paula told me how to get on the horse, to use the stirrup and swing my leg over. She said she would stand there and hold the bridal while I climbed on the horse. I admit to being a little nervous because after all, I had lived in the city most of my life and knew very little of
farm animals, especially horses.
But she told me I had nothing to worry about, that her horse was gentle and sweet. So I climbed on and settled myself on top of the horse.
"Hey, this isn't so ba...aaa...d," I was trying to say when in mid-sentence I found myself flying through the air, landing in a pile of hay and staring at the blue sky.
The "sweet" horse had bucked me off.
Concerned, Paula came running up to check to see if I was all right. Sure, I was fine, I told her but just startled. She asked if I wanted to get back on and try again, but I emphatically said no, I was done with horses. So she told me I could sit on the fence and watch her ride around for a little while.
I sat on top of the fence for a long time and watched her gallup around the farmland and then I grew bored.
I wandered back into the farmhouse and looked around. Paula's parents had gone driving through the countryside, so there was no one home. The TV had 2 wretched channels so that was a bust. Aimlessly, I wandered from room to room. But finally, I opened one door and
found a room with shelves containing books and games, a couch and chair, and the Holy Grail to a teenager... a stereo and vinyl 45 records.
Eagerly, I went through the record collection checking out the music.
There was Alice Cooper's "I'm 18", Curtis Mayfield's "Power to the People", and Three Dog Night's "Try a Little Tenderness".
I was in heaven.
An hour later, Paula walked in and asked why I had come in the house. I told her I was enjoying listening to music and looking at books, and I was just fine right where I was.
Paula looked indignant, crossed her arms and let out a little huff. "Don't you want to come outside and walk around?" she asked.
Hmmm, I thought. Would I rather go outside and look at grass and trees or stay in the house and listen to music. There was no contest there. I was happy right where I was and said so.
Aggravated, Paula stomped her foot and marched out the door.
Ah, alone at last. And hey, wasn't the host supposed to do what the guest wanted to do? Evidently not in Paula's world.
We spent the next few days doing our own thing, and I think we were both ready to see the back of each other. We were still friends, but would never be close friends.
As for horses, I still love them and think they're beautiful, but I learned early on not to trust them.
Once I did agree to go with my husband horseback riding with a company that took us on mountain trails. They gave me a horse that was too old to care about anything, and I think it was farsighted because it walked along the edge of the cliffs. I spent the entire time leaning in the saddle away from the steep drop offs. I ended up with an achy back a sore behind.
Never again.
So now I sit in my cushy recliner and look at horses on Facebook. It's really the best way to enjoy them.
