Tuesday, July 14, 2009

I Dream of Ranches

I think I could live on a ranch. I mean, I wouldn't want to do all the hauling and corralling and sweating that ranch life would include, but I think I could handle the simplicity of being out on acres and acres of earth. I could handle wearing a cowboy hat and jeans and boots. I could handle riding my horse down to the creek and swinging into it on the old rope swing. Except that I hate horses. Not the idea of horses, mind you, but the horror of actually riding them. Oh I'd have a horse on my ranch. She'd be named something like Bailey or Henrietta. She'd be entirely brown and would stand, stoically in the field. Unfortunately, I wouldn't get within twelve feet of her. Such is my fear of horses.

I wouldn't hate the horse itself, just the giant teeth that could take off my finger, the bucking ability, and the sheer hugeness. I wish I liked to horseback ride but there was a particular horse who managed to buck me off, knock the wind out of me, and then break my arm all in the course of, like, a week when I was seven years old. I know, I know. You gotta get back on. I did. But I hated it. And that's when I stopped believing in horses. Or, at least, believing that I ought to ride them.

But I should have loved riding because then I could have lived on a ranch. Even a smallish farm would do. Someplace with hard work and huge morning breakfasts. A world where simple is better. I grew up with plenty but, like most kids, I had friends who had so much more. And sure, there were times when I wanted the newest things but, for the most part, I was content with what we had. My favorite times were vacations at "our" cabin at Tahoe or tent camping in a national park. The best times were the simple times.

It's no secret that I didn't marry for money. Undoubtedly, I married for love. In the grand scheme of things, we have plenty but, like most people, I have friends who have so much more. Sometimes I wonder if they can be truly happy. I mean, can one be truly happy without ever having learned to tent camp? I'll probably get hate mail for that very statement but I'm only slightly kidding because I, myself, cannot comprehend it. I am so thankful that my parents taught me about life and showed me how to live one where the best times were the simple times.

I would love to love riding my horse through the breeze, one hand on my cowboy hat so it doesn't blow away. Sometimes I think about going somewhere, sometime, and hopping up onto a horse. I ponder overcoming my fear of the collosal beasts. I consider, even, getting close enough to feed one an apple. Then I start convulsing and nearly pass out.

It's almost irrational, this fear I have of horses.


  1. I went to a camp once in Jackson Hole for 21 days where nearly every day I had to do the bridle and the saddle and the whole bit on my horse... hand in its mouth and all. I had the heeby jeebies a bit.

    Look at the list of blogs I follow and check out the one entitled "Life on the Funny Farm' where my friend Donna runs a real farm day in and day out, horses and all. I am just attempting to grow a little garden - she does the whole thing like a pioneer woman!

  2. Maybe next time we go to Tahoe we should go on a ride? I think that Garrett would just about be big enough to sit with him mama on a horse and protect her. A slow meander on a horse can be sooooo much fun.

  3. Too funny. I'm with you...yes on tent camping, no on horses. J

  4. I'm totally with you on the horses. But I'm not so afraid of them, I just don't LIKE them. AND my in-laws have 3 of them at their place AND they can't wait to get my little man riding one of them. I know I'm a weirdo to most when I say this, but NO THANK YOU.

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  6. I can understand being afraid of horses. I rode one once and it tried to bite me. Scary stuff!!

  7. You couldn't do my job. Some days I have to the Clydesdale presentation, standing just a few feet away from a good ole Budweiser Clydesdale. I'm thinking your presentation would include a lot of hyperventilating over the microphone.