Back in the Saddle Again
My birthday was a very busy day with a churcch breakfast. There was a wide variety of food that was more than I could eat even with a small ssample of each. I carefully selected some that I could taste without getting overly full. I barely able to eat what I’d selected and all of it was delicious.
Later I rode with my daughter Anna to a musical that my grnddaughter Celine was in. It was a crazy hip hop type musical withan emphasis on good and bad peer pressure and the possible consequences of each. With that tucked away, my family whisked me away to the Texas Roadhouse. It was a wonderful day. The two servers were wonderful. The more mature gal was vivacious and filled with politeness and good humor. She and a younger server took care of our party of ten. That in itself was remarkable because this was the first time that the younger gal had faced such a large group and the other server was very helpful to meet our party’s needs and to guide the younger gal along.
If anyone has eaten at the Texas Roadhouse for theitr birthday, you probably know what happens next. The servers dragged a sawhorse topped with a Western saddle for the birthday patron to sit on for photos while they loudly announce the name and age of the rider.
This event caused me to think back to my Grandfather Ray Miner’s farm. He had horses. One was a black stallion and the other was an older work horse named Pet. Occassionally Granddad would hoist me onto her broad back and allow me to ride. I can remember that Pet had white coat grizzled with gray. There was no need for a saddle. Pet was a gentle mare.
I can remember riding the ponies at Idlewild Park. There were young people that helped kids off and onto the ponies’ backs and onto the saddles. The workers would lead the ponies along a fenced-in trail with the bridles, not allowing the kids to take control.
The next saddle memory I’ll saddle you with is one that occurred while attending a church camp in Colorado. My wife Cindy Morrison Beck and I were to ride horses to a campfire for a chuckwagon breakfast. Cindy had very short legs and couldn’t put her feet into the stirrups correctly. She became scared, pulling back on the reins. Festus, the mule that she was riding promptly sat down dumping Cindy to the ground. Cindy rode a jeep to the breakfast and had a sore bottom for months.