Admittedly, I’m having commitment issues with this blog. I’m not sure why, other than the fact that sometimes I get daunted by my millions of readers and all their comments. Let me tell you, that is quite a time commitment in itself. Ha… Ha ha ha.
Anyway, since I’m corny and cheesy and I also happen to love nachos and not just because they bear a strong resemblance to my personality, I told myself that I needed to get back in the saddle again. Literally and literary speaking. As I was thinking about the phrase “back in the saddle” it reminded me of a time I got bucked off a horse. It was my first time. I sat there in the dirt and in my utter embarrassment, the only thing I could think of was that stupid phrase, so that’s what I did.
It was the summer I was sixteen. I was working at Warm Beach Camp as a wrangler-in-training and even though I loved the outdoors, horses, and the smell of grass hay, I was very green. I had never really ridden much more than a few lazy trailrides, which was more apparent to my horse than I realized. At the beginning of the summer, all the wrangling staff were assigned horses that weren’t quite ready to be camp horses. Some needed more training, while others–like my horse, were still too wily and stubborn to be trusted with campers.
Her name was Taboo, and her diminutive size was contradicted by her one blue eye which gave her kind of a half-crazed look most of the time. That first afternoon I was assigned to her, I was supposed to saddle her up, avoid getting bit, and take her into the corral to ride and get to know her a little bit. I was pretty nervous while I got her ready; it was only the beginning of the summer, and I really wanted to start off on the right foot–make a good first impression. On a horse. I know. As I was about to discover, she was plotting a first impression of a completely different type: the first impression of my body hitting the dirt.
As I led her into the arena, I was chagrined to discover that the only other person riding in the arena was the closest thing I knew to a real-live cowboy. He was just old enough to be out of my league, but certainly young enough to make me turn red at the mere thought of doing something embarrassing in front of him. Cautiously, I started Taboo across the arena. This wasn’t too bad..in fact, I looked pretty darn good. She was behaving perfectly and I felt very smug and clever since everyone had told me how tough she could be. I relaxed into her gait, and flashed a smile across the arena at the real-live cowboy. The sun was warm, the birds were singing, and the next thing I knew, I was lurching forward over her left shoulder. In one swift movement, she exhaled and crow-hopped, causing the saddle to slip sideways and send me into the dirt all sore next to a horse with a saddle hanging off her side.
I know, cue the violin music, right?
I know I said “bucked off.” I lied. Fortunately, the real-live cowboy pretended not to notice while I got back on before it became obvious that I had just fallen off a walking horse.
This was fun…maybe I should blog more.