Slight Detour: Joyous Musing

Dirty feet and all, it was a beautiful sight.

My sister Laurie rode a horse for the first time since October, and CB was that horse. Twas his first time ridden since last August.

We've waited until better weather for this to happen in Roxane's indoor arena, and, happily, it came yesterday on the first of a string of lovely spring days.

Obviously, it will take a few more spring days for that mud to dry up and those pretty white stockings of CB's to shine, but the rest was good.

CB seemed as happy as the humans.

Overnight, my friend and family "outlaw" Kirsten posted a piece on from the Washington Post by Annie Lamott on her Facebook feed.

It hits the nail on the head about our aging population and how---even with all the aches and pains and memory lapses---we can still find ways to enjoy what we have always enjoyed.

Plus, we're at an age and mindset where we easily forgive ourselves and each other for increasing number of slip-ups.

With Annie Lamott, these enjoyable moments come on walks with her friend and with her temperamental hip.

The latter always lets her know when it's time to turn around and go home, but in the interim, she and her friend enjoy precious moments of laughter and nature.

I have always liked to remind my 60-somethings, who love to and still do some serious horseback riding, to "wait until you're in your 70s."

But, still, over all these years, I'm continue to enjoy my horses: maybe not like I did . . .

when I wasn't supposed to ride them as a kid and had to sneak.

Or,

when I was a teen, and my friend Susie and I waited until we were out of sight from MY parents to race Major and Largo down country roads. Susie's parents, who didn't know much about horses, didn't care.

Or,

at a later age, when I tried riding in a few horse show classes at the old fairgrounds and the new.

I never had the same talents or determination of my younger sisters, but I still loved my horses.

Then came trail rides with Lily, often all by myself with a cell phone in my pocket for just in case.

Then, came fear.

I had heard enough stories of other friends who had gone off from their horses and had spent months of rehab.

Fear develops with age and from hearing those stories.

Another perspective that hopefully develops as we age is called adjustment.

It usually evolves after we have put up self-imposed walls signaling to us that we can't enjoy the things we love like we always have.

Been there, done that.

Two years ago, with knees crying out every time I got off the couch, I was silently suggesting to a small circle that I would "give" my horses away cuz I could not do this anymore.

Well, as they say darkness comes before the dawn, and last year while still suffering the aches and pains of a body that was refusing to cooperate with my horse chores, it suddenly dawned on me that life isn't always "all or none."

I could still enjoy my horses if I could find a way to lighten the load on my body.

The rest is history and the last month of boarding them over the winter is almost history.

They'll come home soon and spend the summer and early fall here where I won't have to clean barns and haul off and dump loads of manure by hand.

And, the best part of their coming home will be the most recent means I've adopted to still enjoy my horses.

"Aren't they pretty out there in the field?" I'll muse day after day.

Occasionally, with a committee of support staff, I'll climb on and ride one of them around the yard, or relatives and friends can come and ride them.

I don't know if "Aren't they pretty out there in the field" will be the last chapter for me in a lifetime of loving horses, but for now, it suits me just fine.

Like Annie Lamott, my endurance is limited, but whatever joy comes from her going on her walks with friends or my moments of leaning on a board fence marveling at the beauty of my horses aka my equine friends---that will be just fine.

Thank you, little Sis, for your talents and your willingness to put a little more polish on CB.

It means a lot.