Two Fat Ladies and a Dead Santa

So Sunday I just left the house, made sure everyone had breakfast out at least, two were still asleep, one was watching tv groggily in the early morning hours. Since no one needed me, and I have this need to go on horse adventures, I drove to Santa Clarita to look at a horse the kids might be able to ride.

The lady looked like a gigantic pear, like she'd been dropped from an airplane about 40 years ago, and puffed out like a mushroom when she landed, and stayed that way til now. But at least her face was haggy. Nice lady, though, and she drove me over to look at her horse, which ended up being off on a dirt road that was riddled with a mile of tiny rows of lumps, like an ant's mountain range, reducing our speed to like nothing. Well, my speed - she was way up ahead. We were going up a mountain that didn't look inhabited, or even pretty except that it was vast and empty, which my soul longs for. It looked like a place where you dump a body. This is the part of the adventure where I always think hmm, shoulda stayed home with Cheerios and groggy teenager. But I don't really get to travel anymore, 3 kids, sports, school, life, so following a fat lady up a dusty hill is my Paris.

Luckily I brought my saddle, because once we got there she says, "Oh, did you bring a bridle?" Um, no. That's like bringing someone a bra. They don't just fit anyone. "Oh, because I sold her bridle." Hmm. Sold the bridle before the horse? Not doing much riding, are we? You need a bridle to ride.

Okay, though. Sure. She borrows a bridle from her other large friend at the stable "Pam" and I start saddling up the patchy pony, who is cute and looks like a My Little Pony compared to my giant Dewey at home, and the mare is a good horse. Considering I'm learning that the lady has bad hips and can't ride anymore - in fact, she is talking about "all the riding" she did with Pam (bad knees), back about 10 YEARS ago.

When looking for a horse for your beginner kids, getting on one that hasn't done much in 10 years is pretty much the stupidest thing ever. So I make Bad Hips get on first, because I'd like to be second in line to die if there's any death coming. She basically turns the horse in a few circles, which seems weird, instead of just riding forward, you know, simulating what we'd be doing on a TRAIL, I wouldn't put the kids on and then have them spin the horse in circles and back up. People are weird. But I guess she was trying to show off or something. Then I get on and just walk around, getting a feel for her. The lady says, "Oh, I never cantered her." Like, EVER? In 14 years? She only ever walked the horse over to the restaurant, tied her up and then walked back, with her friend Pam. Sometimes trotted a tiny bit if she had to catch up. I'm pretty sure this lady just needed some really nice walking shoes, she didn't need a whole horse.

So then I'm not going to be the one flung skyward by asking her to canter for the first time ever under saddle. So I just ride around and the horse tries her hardest, but this horse would be work to get used to life at our house, and my house is already all full of work. Horses have to be easy. The perfect fit.

I take one picture of her, sort of apologetically, and listen to the old ladies talk about the cruises they're both going on. I guess this is the future, 20 years ahead. I'll be the lady who can't get on the horse anymore, and can't wait to go on the next cruise. I hope not, though. I hope I just hitch Dewey to a cart and cart around the grandchildren. At least I can cart, if I can't ride. I hope I don't look like mushroom pants.

I get back in the car and am turning around to leave and there back by the shed is what looks like a dead Santa. It's a life-sized, human Santa, flat on his back like the elves have robbed him and left him for dead. It's April. Santa didn't quite make it to storage. It's so funny to see him laying there that I roll down my window and take two pictures of dead Santa. So I now have one of the horse, two of dead Santa.

Sometimes the trip you take isn't for you think it's for. Two fat ladies and Dead Santa.

I got home and crawled under blankets with teenagers and toothless 7 year old and watched "Little House on the Prairie" the rest of the day. Blankets and kids = why would anyone go anywhere.