My mom recently made me come get a bunch of stuff from her house. Stuff that I’ve left there basically since I left home 11(?) years ago. I suggested she just throw it all in the trash, and asked if I could throw it in her trash, but she told me I can throw it away after I get it out of her house. Uggggh.
So I came home with 5 heavy boxes of stuff. There were stuffed animals, dolls, random little girl room decorations, and an entire box of high heels that I remember being super proud of. And actually, if they weren’t so scuffed up, I might still wear some of them now, there’s a few cute pairs in there.
One of my hobbies was painting. Seeing it now though… it’s pretty appalling.
I also found this gem of a picture:
But, from years prior to that photo, I found many other photos of my adolescent years with horses. So here’s a trip down memory lane…
I went through a western phrase.
I was in 4-H, but I didn’t qualify for the show that year. So, instead I gave Sonny a prep talk with the person who did show him.
After the year showing Sonny, I got my own western horse, my very first horse. Quarter horse Clay.
After Clay, came Vintage, the very same Vintage we all know and love today, despite her continued indifference towards everyone. She was pretty spicy back then though!
She’s also soooo much darker. It’s incredible how light she is now. For comparison, here she is now:
I mean, it’s like 15 years later, at least. We all go gray eventually I suppose.
And finally, the best tool my parents gave me to pursue my horse dreams:
I wish I had more photos, I would have loved to document where Vintage and I went after that. Having freedom meant that I could pursue my equestrian pursuits, but it also meant I wasn’t relying on my parents anymore, and then they weren’t around to take photos anymore. There’s a period of several years where I don’t really have any photos, which makes me sad. Maybe this is why I over document everything now?
Luckily Facebook was created, so I do have some photos from there… but I may have already shared them.
Going through all these pictures makes me really grateful for my parents’ support of my love of horses. We weren’t rich, but they helped me find ways to pursue it. They spent their Saturday mornings driving me to my riding lesson and waiting for me. We moved onto a farm. My dad’s real love has always been sailing, and he wanted to live where he could sail everyday. Instead, my family went the opposite direction, moving inland, far away from the water, onto a farm. They didn’t specifically say it was for me… but they could have chosen many other spots to build their house, and they choose a spot where I could have a horse. And now, many years later, I am collecting my belongings because it’s finally time for them to move to the Chesapeake Bay.
Thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you for giving me access to a horse life.
I’m hoping to find more photos of even younger me riding, but I think I’ll have to raid my parent’s photo albums to find those photos. Hopefully, they exist!