The following day was the 24th of July Holiday. We went and sat at our usual spot by the old horses or "farm" as my Grandpa calls it. My mom spent many hours here and I did growing up. Hauling hay, riding horses. I loved the smell of the tack room. I remember feeding my goat that died prematurely and I simply asked "can we get another one?" instead crying and feeling sad. I remember walking up the wooden ladder over the barb wire fence and down the side of the barn then under a wood gate. That was the cool way to get in because only kids could fit. I remember the gates with horse shoes (that are still there), shoveling snow off the roofs once I was married so that they wouldn't cave in. This is where, as a teenager, I would saddle up my horse, put on gloves and a hat, and ride through the snow to the indoor area, praying my horse wouldn't be a dink, so that I could go ride with the 4-H during the winter. This is where Tackle would always try to run off to when I would ride her at the fairgrounds. Wow my mom put up with a lot! Thanks mom. Back to the parade.
That night Peter had to work. I went over to my parents and rode horses for a bit. Then we loaded up the kids and brought blankets and drove to Willow Park to watch the fireworks out of the back of the car. It made for a quick get away and I could leave the sleeping baby in the car. Bonus!
What my kids do while I ride horses:
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