Who AM i?

Somewhere between 28 years old and now I have

transformed. I am old and I have weathered many

storms yet the one thing that always brings me home

and soothes my very disheveled and broken spirit is the

smell of the barn and the love in my horse's eyes.

The inspiration to write this blog is tenfold. First and

foremost I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for my

husband, who through all these years supported my

passion emotionally and financially! From the purchase

of my first horse... A 3 month old colt to the cutting

horses we have today...without him, none of this would

be possible. Second...my daughter...Her sense of spirit,

strong will and intense talent has given me the desire to

actually sit down and examine my very self and put my

dreams, heartaches and accomplishments into words.

Next...my trainer(s), Tom Riley and his wife, Courtney...

Tom, a tough, salty old Texas cowboy with a gentle,

patient spirit has given me back my dreams, (much

more on Tom later) and Courtney...a friend, mentor and

source of all knowledge!

And last but not least, my cowgirls... The Barbed Wire

Babes! Sharon, Sue, Donna, Allison, Gail and Laura...

The heart and soul of our barn and the keepers of my sanity.

From Now Till Then...

I am 56 years old...overweight, uncoordinated and a

klutz. I trip on my own spurs (and fall without grace and

poise), I need a mounting block to get on my horse and

if she doesn’t stand perfectly still, the process could take

15 minutes or more! I become unnerved at the core if

my horse spooks, crow-hops or dares to pick up

unwanted speed... And by speed I mean a faster lope

than the usual controlled, Western Pleasure gait a 6

year old child can sit to! I have a death grip on the reins

and my horse's mouth takes the brunt of my paranoia.

After every ride, my dear, patient and quite frustrated

trainer has to undo all the mistakes and destruction I

have caused to my fine-tuned, cutting horse athlete!

Bottom line... I have been riding since I was 28 or so

and despite the weight gain and deep-seeded fear of

falling, I haven't changed a bit. I am still the worst rider

in the barn and will, unfortunately hold that lifelong title!

Personally, I don’t care. . Only I know what’s in my head

and the blocks that keep me from letting go of the reins.

I would love for people to talk behind my back and say

good things, but that’s not human nature. I ride the

perfect horse now who's opinion is the only one that

matters...hers, and of course Tom Riley's.

When did all this start?

Of course, I could start at the beginning... The purchase

of my first horse... A foal... That I could love and train and

raise as my own... REALLY??? Knowing less than

nothing about horses, including but not limited too

sheath cleaning and hoof picking, I thought I could

tackle this venture and end up with a finely tuned "pet".

Wrong!!!

I could also go through the many horses and trainers

that wreaked havoc on my financial status and my emotional

 well-being, from Spook- my 17 hand thoroughbred

who heard the cries of an announcer in his head "and

they're off" at any given unpredicted time, to my black

quarter horse who was "trained" by a fancy-ass quarter

horse trainer who's techniques included a crop and a

bicycle chain resulting in a bad accident that landed me

in the hospital and paralyzed my bladder for a good half

year....but I won’t.

This is about that ONE horse that changes your life

forever...the one that loves, respects and takes care of

you despite all the mistakes and anguish you put it

through. This is about Satin. My ONE horse. All the

others in-between really don’t matter, except, of course,

the ones I have now and the road taken to get to them.

From Western to English to Western again, I have found

scared to death wannabe cowgirls who will and CAN

be!

This is for you...

You... The middle-aged baby-boomer cowgirl with back

fat and midriff bulge! It’s for those of us who long to

perfect our seat and wear a Swarovski crystal studded

hat and "Cowgirl -Tuff" jeans with the same adorned

crystal pockets accentuating our more than generously

padded butts who desperately desire to glide across the

arena in "Stacy Westfall" style!

It’s for those of us, who week after week never learn!

We make the same mistakes over and over again and

are lucky enough to have a forgiving horse and a (most times)

patient trainer who corrects us and fixes the

damage we've done to our horses!

This is for those of us who are lucky enough to torture

ourselves and strap across the back of an 1100 pound

freight train and survive!

Cowgirl up!