A Horse Tale

Hi all! I hope this week is treating you well. It's been very nice here in Philadelphia, and I am enjoying every minute of sunny days and cool nights and mornings.

Yes, the above image is Mr. Ed, the talking horse. As you may or may not know, Mr. Ed is one of my favorite TV shows *ever.* When I was a kid, I dreamed of having a horse - any kind of horse, really. But if it turned out to be a horse like Mr. Ed, that would have just been a bonus. And Mr. Ed is the reason that I have a lifelong love for horses. Just seeing one makes me happy. If I get to pet one, kiss its nose, or ride one, then it's all exponentially better.

OK, that was some background. Now the reason I'm telling you about this. A month or more ago, when I abandoned my Relax Tee, I said that if anyone was interested in the lovely linen yarn that I was using, I would be happy to send it along. A woman named Barbara who lives in Texas, and obviously reads the blog, sent me an e-mail and said she would love to have it. In the course of our e-mails back and forth, she mentioned that she had horses. REAL LIVE HORSES that she can see every day, whenever she wants to! In any case, I finally got my act together and sent the yarn, and she sent me a very lovely thank you package, which I'll take about in another post. But when I read the note enclosed with it, I was reminded of this story, which I don't think I've ever told you before, so here goes. If you are only interested in knitting or book content, you can skip this post.

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Years ago, when we first moved to Philadelphia, we lived in a neighborhood where about half a mile from our apartment were the City Stables. It was near a little market we used to visit, so when we could we would go and see the horses afterwards. Well, it turned out that they offered riding lessons for adults, but they were so popular, it was by lottery. I took riding lessons as a child, as part of a club at a school I attended in some place where we were living at the time, but hadn't really ridden a horse for years. The Tim had never ridden a horse, so we put our names into the lottery, and we were chosen!

They did the lessons in groups of six people. Our group was 5 women and The Tim. One of the women, whose name was Dottie, said at the beginning that she signed up for lessons because "she was hoping to meet a man." Good luck with that, right?

So after our first lesson, which involved showing us how to put the tack on the horse, get onto the saddle, and then guide the horse around the ring, we were back at the stables, putting things away, grooming our horse, etc. My horse was a sweet boy named Durango. I was the last one out of the lesson, so The Tim was nearby waiting for me to finish. Dottie went over to him and started chatting. Now, you should know that The Tim is a very polite and often charming person in public, and will talk to anyone, but isn't really stellar in the listening department unless he knows he has to be. So he and Dottie are chatting, and I heard her say, "What's your name?" And frankly, I suspected he wasn't paying attention, and that was confirmed when he responded, "Durango." I immediately started to laugh so hard I cried while I was finishing up with the *real* Durango, and Dottie replied, "Oh that's so weird, just like the horse!" Frankly, I was laughing so hard, I have no idea how he got himself out of the conversation. 

Going home, he said, "You know, I wasn't really paying close attention, so I thought she asked me if I knew the horse's name." (No sh*t, Sherlock.) 

Well, this story has become a legend in our family. One of my nieces said the only way it could have been better would have been if the horse's name had been Powder Puff or something like that.

The next 5 weeks of lessons were wonderful, but nothing as memorable as the first night, when we learned that one of the people in our group had the same name as one of the horses at the stable. 😉

Barbara - thanks for the gift, and for bringing this memory into my brain. I hope you enjoy your yarn at least as much as I enjoyed this story, and thinking about it again.

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Happy Trails, y'all.