The past two weekends I was at the Senator Bob Martin Ag Center in Williamston, NC for horse shows as a vendor, selling and signing books. These events were especially fun as I am originally from Plymouth, just a hop and skip from Williamston. I saw some old friends, some former riding students who have grown up and have children of their own riding and loving horses. It was a home-coming.
|NENC District 4-H Horse Show|
I hadn’t been to a horse show in several years, but once I was there it felt just like old times – parents and trainers on the rail watching the young riders and their horses. The announcer calling out instructions, the clunk, clunk of boots on the concrete floor of the walk-way. Horses whinnying, and the smell of leather from the tack vendor’s booth. I know if a rider is posting on the correct diagonal in a equitation class and that the horses are cantering on the correct leads. I stifled the urge to comment when a rider was too far forward or didn’t have their legs under them. I didn’t say a word about western horses going at a four-beat lope and carrying their heads with the polls lower than their withers. It was reassuring to know I haven’t gotten so old, or been away from the business so long that I didn’t notice these things.
|Makayla showing me her favorite horse.|
Jessica, my grand daughter, was my last kid to show her horse. She joined me with her husband and two little ones at the show two weekends ago. Her little girl, Makayla, who is four, was on the edge of her seat watching the horses go around. Maybe I'll be on the rail again one day watching her ride in the horse show.