Memoir Monday, July 8, 1966

July 8+1 1966 

This actually happened on July 9, 1966 but in the absence of anything for the proper day, here it is. This was kind of fun! We had gone to the Appaloosa Show in Flagstaff that weekend, which was for both business and pleasure. Few of the names mean anything to me now but I do remember the incident well. It was early afternoon, broken clouds but no storms close, and pretty hot. The mare was one of the 'roany looking' Appaloosa type, red and white in a "merle" blend (to misuse a herding dog term) that looked almost wine or muted dark red. I do not recall her being unduly spirited or difficult; in fact she did very well. No idea why no one else would ride her. I had never formally ridden in a show of this level before but had watched this class often. Doing it out in 'Big World' public' was something else so placing was a huge surprise! I had never been near that mare before I approached and mounted her. She accepted me, apparently knowing I was a horse person.

BTW I wrote this originally on a plain sheet of paper, not in a journal, and later copied it into a steno notebook I began to use shortly as I think I mentioned last time.  

July 9, 1966

Well, I've done it--I rode in a show and placed, even. I rode Mr Cochran’s mare Greola D in the Trail Class. It was quite sudden and a surprise, so much so that I hardly had time to be scared. I goofed up badly on the gate but still got a 6^th place beating Claire Johnson, Betsy Wallbridge, etc. There were about sixteen entries in the class. I wore my Wrangler tans, my 'circle-cross' shirt and used Betty Parish’s  saddle and chaps. I was really surprised that I placed. Long ago I wrote a poem, My First Ribbon”. I’ll have to see how closely it fits! Only of course I didn’t get it for it is the horse’s possession  or the owners, actually.  The horses, not the riders per se were judged. But no one else wanted to ride the mare--not sure why--so I did. I may ride her again in Western Pleasure tomorrow   But we did not ago back the next day, it seems.

I cannot recall if anything was ever said after the day. No surprise, really. It was a validation for me, anyway. The mare had never seen me before yet she accepted me without hesitation. I recognized then that I really was a horsewoman and a trainer, because I was able to be calm and confident. She had done the course before and only needed minimal cues but paid attention to me as her rider. and I did not mess her up. 

Actually this was the last chance I had to do something like this. Sixty days saw me ending that opportunity forever due to fate and a choice I had no options but to make. That life would have been cut off within just over a year anyway, although I did not know either of those future outcomes on this day. Regrets? Some, but mostly over the fact  so much was beyond my control. I had came to a fork where only one direction was possible. Beware of what you wish for? There is much I still and will always miss  but I have to trust everything happened as it was somehow meant to to bring me to where I sit today. I can cherish many good memories to veil over and temper the bad. 

Pictures:  The first shows colors and patterns of Appaloosas. The mare  was similar to the second in top row although more red. Our stallion, Yavapai Chief, was the 4th there, classic chestnut blanket. Then there is a scrap of the red plaid fabric from which I had made matching shirts for Dusty and me. I was wearing mine that day. Sadly I never got a photo of it. And lastly my verse; not quite what happened but an odd coincidence!

My First Ribbon

There it hangs in all its glory-- 

Would you like to hear the story?

It’s not a red, much less a blue,

But I’m real proud, I’m telling you 

Of that green ribbon, new and bright

That I won one long-passed  night.

It was just a little show,

But the judge was hard, you know.

He was watching everything

When we rode around the ring;

He looked at me with narrow eyes

So it was a great surprise

When I heard them call my name.

I walked on clouds as out I came

To get that old green ribbon there,

At the horse show, at the fair.

My old pony looked so proud

Standing there before the crowd

With that ribbon by his ear

Gently fluttering, bright and clear.

Someday perhaps we’ll win a blue

Or even a silver trophy, too,

But none of them can ever mean      

More than that little bow of green.

GM, 1963