I’m living my dream. I’m doing my dream. My dream is to ride horses.
Over and over in the backseat la Niña was singing about horses. We were on our way to Milpitas to do a trail ride. This activity is one that she’s been refused too many times, because she’s too small, too young, and does taekwondo (I couldn’t understand the logic of this one). The first two were also rather mystifying because in Alberta kids are on the backs of horses as toddlers and I thought I was a bad Canadian because my child can’t ride a horse, skate, or ski.
(But she does know that if you want light in a snow fort you need to put glass bottles into the walls as you’re building it.)
So, I did some searches and made some calls and we spent Saturday morning on the back of a horse.
It was a trial run to see how she’d do… to see if we should pursue some lessons. And, ever since last summer and the “kayak incident” where she hopped into a kayak and just started paddling like a pro, I was curious to see how she would do on a horse. I often wonder if there’s something to Carl Jung’s genetic memory theory that people retain racial memory. I wouldn’t surprise me… we’ve already had success with storing data in DNA.
The outcome of her very first horse ride with
Shilo Shasta was no surprise: she hopped on a horse, did some sort of horse whisperer thing, and then moved the horse backwards, sideways and forwards until it was where she wanted it to be.
Me? I’m sore. I haven’t been on a horse for years and had difficulty finding a posting rhythm when my horse decided to trot. Plus, whenever I am around horses I miss Michi; this ride is dedicated to her memory.