Memory Lane Friday - 6th Grade

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "6th Grade." For some reason, I'm not remembering anything specific from school for 6th grade. But I'[m pretty sure the horse memory I'm thinking of was from my my year in 6th grade. Yes, of course, I have to write about an equestrian memory . . .

This memory is from a spring horse show toward the end of the school year (probably over a whole weekend), or maybe during the course of a few days, right after the school year ended.

I had my gray horse, Chico; he and I made a great team. We were so in tune with each other, he'd become known as a "push button" horse. That means that you could basically just think of what you wanted him to do, and he'd do it, with only the slightest of cues from the rider's (in other words MY) legs, seat, and hands.

Anyway, we'd gone to this show in town, and I was so excited. It was basically down the road from the stable where Chico was boarded, so we didn't have to trailer him and stay in a hotel overnight (which was fun - don't get me wrong, but sometimes it was nice to show near home). And it was a BIG show, which made it even more exciting.

Well, one of these days of showing, Chico and I were in an "over fences" class, meaning that riders would go into the ring one at a time and jump a combination of fences (or "jumps"). This particular class was a "hunter class," being judged on how nice and smooth the horse went around the course; if it looked like the horse was super easy to ride around the course, then the rider did it right.

I memorized the course, and then Chico and I headed into the ring, when they called my number. We were going around nice and smooth. Now, I'm not sure exactly what happened next, but Chico and I came around a corner to a fence mid-course, and for some reason (probably mostly rider-error/maybe part horse error), Chico refused the fence. He basically just slammed on the breaks right before the jump. That caused me (at 11-12 years old, or thereabouts) to do a somersault over his head, landing on my back, right onto the little flower box right that decorated the front of the jump. I landed on that thing just above the kidney area.

It knocked the wind out of me, of course. And it startled me, more than anything else. As I tried to sit up, I saw a familiar face running toward me. It was my dad. He had gotten off work and had headed over to the show area in hopes of watching me ride a bit. I'm assuming that since my mom was there watching, she had sent him out to see if I was okay.

I was okay, of course, after catching my breath, my pride taking the most damage. My riding instructor had caught Chico, and led him back to me. Once I got up and indicated I was okay, my dad left the ring, leaving the pep talk to my instructor. She told me to get right back on, which I did (with a leg up from her). I don't remember the pep talk, but I do remember being ready to get right back on, in hopes that I could finish the course.

She told me to trot right over to the judges' stand to ask if I could take that one refused fence before I left the ring. I was nervous about doing that, but I didn't question her. I just did it, lightbulb going on over my head, realizing I wouldn't be able to finish the rest of the course - but hoping I could do just that one fence.

I remember asking, "May I jump that one jump before leaving the ring?" and getting a "Yes. Good job getting right back on, young lady."

So I went and did that one jump Chico had refused, and then trotted out of the ring. With a quick "I'm okay" to my mom and dad, and a "What now?" to my coach, I was told I could head back to the barn and put Chico up for the night (remember, this show was near the stable where we kept Chico). That class had been my last of the day.

As I rode Chico up the path from the show to the stable, I suddenly started crying. I was really upset that I'd fallen off. Okay, it happens sometimes, and I wasn't hurt, but it was the last class of the day. I was crying with disappointment at how I ended that day of showing.

Anyway, I guess I was also crying because I was a pre-teen and, well . . . you know how hormonal and upset pre-teens can get, right? I was just plain upset!

I did, however, wake up the next day with a big, ol' rectangular bruise on my back. I was actually a bit sore from the fall, but it didn't affect my ability to show the next day.

Here's a photo from that very same show. It was a day when I'd won some ribbons, and for one class, even some money for coming in 3rd or 4th place! (I remember a check having been stapled to the back of my ribbon.)

This was in the day before we were required to wear ASTM/SEI riding helmets. Photo ©Rick Bate

Thanks form stopping by and reading today's memory. I appreciate it. Come back next week when we have another "No Theme" Memory Lane Friday!

Memory Lane Friday is hosted by Lisa at Two Bears Farm. Please click on the button below to read her entry, as well as other contributors' entries:

Memory Lane Friday

This week, Memory Lane Friday is "No Theme" so we are all going to write about . . . well, very different things. At first, I was all excited because there are so many things I could write about, but then I felt overwhelmed because there are so many things to write about.

So I'm going to narrow it down to a very memorable experience I had while on horseback. Of course, I had to go the equestrian route, again. I guess I've been missing riding lately, so maybe if I write about it here, it'll help alleviate the "I miss it" feeling . . . if only just a little bit, and for just a few minutes.

Okay, this experience was BIG. When I was a student at Culver Girls Academy, I was part of the Culver Equestriennes, the mounted team that performs musical drills.

Well, every 4 years, the Presidential Inaugural rolls around. Typically, Culver Academies gets an invitation for the Black Horse Troop (a.k.a. BHT - the boys enrolled in Culver's Troop) to participate in the Inaugural Parade. For the longest time, it was just the BHT.

But then, for the January 1985 Parade (occurring months before I attended Culver as a freshman), the Equestriennes were extended an invitation, along with the BHT.

So that meant that when I became part of the Equestriennes, I'd be a part of the Culver- Inaugural tradition by the time I graduated.

And it happened, of course. My senior year, the Culver Academies were to send both the BHT and the Equestriennes for the 1989 Presidential Inaugural Parade. I almost couldn't stand the excitement.

Well, in the months leading up to the Parade, we had lots of practice - all these riders practicing staying in formation, practicing Pass in Review (what we'd do exactly when passing the President's reviewing box), practicing riding in formation with loud sounds going off all around us like cannons, emergency vehicles with sirens blaring and lights flashing, flags whipping around, having to maneuver around tires and odds and ends all around us, (to prepare the horses for anything), and just practicing, practicing, practicing. And it was COLD in NW Indiana in late fall, early winter.

I foggily remember leaving for Christmas break. Then, again in a fog, heading back to campus and having 1st semester finals, barely being able to concentrate on the exams in front of me.

I remember that our travel plans depended on our finals schedule. We had a couple "waves" of students traveling to D.C., our departure all depending on finals. I was in the first wave to leave. I remember getting my plane ticket, a booklet with the "who, what, when, where, how" - which included:

• a Code of Conduct, explaining how the Academies' trip to Washington, D.C. would an "official academy function . . . " 
• a uniform packing list for both girls and cadets, 
• horse assignments for Troop A, Troop B, and Equestriennes,
• student/faculty/staff manifest for both the earlier and later travelers,
• hotel room assignments, with "room commanders'" names in bold (yes, I was a "room commander")
• schedule of events

 It was exciting. I remember that a few days before we were to leave, we had to get our equipment ready. Since we'd had our horse assignments soon after getting the invitation, we already knew which horse we each had (because we had to practice with that horse), and the corresponding stall number. My horse was a black gelding named McClellan, #52. Each horse had a corresponding saddle, bridle, and brushes, each item with the appropriate horse's number engraved somewhere visible.

Each of us was given a big white canvas bag, with a number stenciled on it, corresponding to horse number. So, of course, in my #52 bag, I needed to put McClellan's brushes, hoof pick, saddle, a white leather double-bridle, saddle pad, white saddle pad cover (with Culver logos on it), and I think our boots and helmets.

Then the horses were loaded on to these huge horse trailers (each horse having a designated trailer number), to be driven out to D.C.

A few days later, the rest of us left.

Traveling with my pals was just too much fun. I remember that my good friend, Debra, was traveling with me on my same schedule. She was also going to be in my hotel room with me, along with two other girls. Debra and I were on the polo team together, on the Equestriennes together, and we hung out a lot. We still keep in touch.

Traveling, checking in, getting meals, and being briefed on upcoming events was just a whirlwind of excitement, and I almost couldn't wait for the big event.

Finally, it was January 20th. We had to get up early, before dawn. I remember eating attempting to eat breakfast. It felt too early to be hungry. Plus, I had butterflies due to excitement. I remember getting into the bus, Debra in the seat next to me, heading from our hotel (a Holiday Inn) in Manassas, VA to D.C.

We had a designated spot where we'd meet the horse trailers. Then we'd lead the horses to a different area to groom them and get them tacked up and then we'd mount.

I don't know how long a bus ride we had, but I dozed off. At some point I awoke with a start. Debra asked, "Did you dream you were falling?" Huh? Oh . . . I groggily explained I was just startled awake by a bump in the road.

As I blinked and looked around, I remember seeing the Capitol ahead of us in the pink/purple/raspberry/peach dawn light. It was an awesome sight. I couldn't say anything; there was nothing to say. I could only look.

We finally got to our destination. We got off the buses, each of us Equestriennes in our white shirt, stock tie, white breeches, boots, and wearing navy blue Culver sweats on top, partly to keep clean, and partly to keep warm.

We waited for the horse trailers to get there. And then they were there. We were on some D.C. street, which had been blocked off for the event. We had to stand around waiting for a bit. I certainly can't tell you how long, because the excitement blurred my sense of time.

I then saw McClellen's trailer number, and I went, along with my fellow equestrians with mounts in the same trailer. And we all began unloading horses.

It was wild. Here we were, leading our horses down a street (sometimes down a sidewalk) in our nation's capitol.

In another whirlwind, we groomed and tacked up our horses, got ourselves ready, mounted up, and spent a lot of time walking to get our horses loosened up. There were some port-a-potties in sight, but for some reason, I decided I could hold it.

But as time went on, and we were getting closer to finally getting the show on the road, I finally couldn't wait anymore. Plus, I didn't want to remember this ride by how badly I had to go to the bathroom. So I dismounted, had a friend hold my horse's reins, and I took off for a port-a-potty. Of course, there was a line. Ugh.

Finally, I was mounted again, and after what seemed like forever (apparently Pres. G.H.W. Bush and Mrs. Bush had decided to get out of their vehicle and walk), we were off. It was mid- to late-afternoon by the time we headed out.

I was in the second row of Equestriennes on the very right - on the TV camera side. The Senior Prefect (who was also an equestrian) and the Equestriennes captain were on the left - the Pass in Review side. But Su and I, the 2 four-year Equestriennes, were on the TV side.

We proceeded along the parade route. I remember that the streets were packed with people trying to watch the Parade, and the streets were lined with military from all branches, but for some reason, I only remember seeing the Marines. I vaguely remember seeing a woman specifically cheering for the Equestriennes as we rode by, wondering if she was an alumna, or a parent. Then I noticed that she waved an "ERA NOW" sign, and the lightbulb went on over my head.

I remember that the crowds were LOUD. The excitement was electric. I couldn't stop smiling. Of course, when we perform, we Equestriennes always smile, but this smiling was easy!

As we got close to the Pass in Review stand, I remember seeing a sign indicating we were entering the TV filming area. It was late in the day, with long shadows, and golden afternoon light.

And then the command for "Eyes Left" (usually "Eyes Right" but the President would be on the left on the Parade route). As we marched past the Reviewing stand doing "Eyes Left," the first person I noticed was Mrs. Quayle because she had on a periwinkle-like bluish outfit and hat. The color stood out on that winter afternoon.Then I caught a glimpse of Dan Quayle, standing, because he was from Indiana, and so was our school. I remember seeing Mrs. Bush, briefly, and just barely getting the quickest of glimpses of Pres. Bush.

And the next thing I knew, we were heading off onto some side street, and McClellan got spooked from some yellow police tape. He sidestepped so quickly, we were at the other end of the row before I could blink.

I barely remember much at this point. I don't remember dismounting or taking care of McClellan, or even the bus ride back to the hotel.

I just replayed all the snapshots in my mind - from the view of the Capitol that morning to the fluttering police tape.

So there you have it. I wish I had the video coverage that we all got, covering everything from practices, to the actual Parade footage, but alas, it's on VHS, and I have yet to get it transferred to DVD. One of these days I will.

In the meantime, I've posted Culver's official photo of the event.

There's a little float ahead of us, with flags and banners and such. It indicated "Indiana" and each state had one ahead of all the units participating from that state. We were first in line for Indiana, which is why we're directly behind the Indiana float. Yes, there are "pooper scoopers" behind us with shovels and trash cans. A marching band was next, and then a float with an eagle and a globe.

If you look at our mounted  unit, the BHT cadets are carrying state flags. You'll see a light blue flag fluttering on the left in the photo. My face is right next to it to the right. The Equestriennes don't carry flags, but with photo angle and the way the flag is fluttering, it looks like I'm immediately to the right of the flag.

Culver Academies in the 1989 Presidential Inaugural Parade, Washington D.C.

Memory Lane Friday is hosted by Two Bears Farm and the Three Cubs . . . so please click on the button to check out Tow Bears' and the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday posts. 

Come back next week when the topic is "A Restaurant". . .yummo - I already have one restaurant in mind.

Memory Lane Friday - A Time You Were Sick

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Time You Were Sick."

There was this one particular time I was sick in high school, and it's this one time that I want to talk about. It's one of those Teens Don't Necessarily Have the Most Common Sense type of stories. And yes, it will have a horse-related theme incorporated into the story. 

It was my sophomore year at Culver Girls Academy. I was in a quad (4-person room) with Candi, Kristi, and Wendy, in the dorm called Tower. Candi and Kristi were seniors, and Wendy was a junior and the only non-equestrian among us (but she usually came out to watch us in Equestriennes performances, or Culver-sponsored horse shows - the home ones, obviously and not the away ones).

Well, anyway . . . back in the day when I was a student there, if you wanted to be a part of the Varsity Jumping team (the team that went to horse shows, competing in hunters/jumpers/hunter points, etc), you had to be enrolled in the Equitation/Horsemanship department (taking Equitation - Horsemanship - classes during the week), and try out/make the JV Jumping team.You had to participate on the JV team for at least one semester before being allowed to try out for the Varsity team.

So my first semester my freshman year, I made the JV team, as did a bunch of other students, including Gavin, a fellow freshman. He and I had also been involved in Pony Club in our respective home towns before attending Culver.

When the second semester of my freshman year started, I'd found out when Varsity Jumping try-outs were (I was also eligible to try out for the Equestriennes at this time, too) and I was there!

Needless to say, I'd made the team as a freshman, as did Gavin. The two of us were the only freshmen on the team.

So . . . fast forward to sophomore year. I can't remember if it was late in the first semester, or early in the second. But it was wintertime and COLD in NW Indiana. Maybe February?

A few of us Varsity Jumpers were getting ready to head to a one-day horse show in Michigan City, IN on a Saturday. By mid-week, I was starting to feel run down, like something was not quite right. I wasn't sure if it was just from classes, studying, and all the other stuff I was involved with - but I just wasn't feeling 100%.

By Friday, though, I knew something was wrong. We'd been at the Riding Hall after we'd ridden that afternoon, just making sure we'd had everything we needed for the show the next day. Since it was just a one-day show, we'd leave early on Saturday to get there, we'd show, and then come back late Saturday evening, so we only needed to organize stuff for one day. We typically stopped at a steak place on our way back to campus so we could eat something tasty for dinner.

This Friday night after wrapping up at the Riding Hall, we'd dispersed our own separate ways, each of us going to our respective dorms/barracks. Candi and Kristi were on the Varsity Jumping team with me, and the three of us headed back to our dorm to shower, change into cozy pjs, and then hang out in our room . . . eventually going to bed at lights-out.

Well, I just felt HORRIBLE by this point. But I didn't want to say anything. I really wanted to go to this horse show. This was my first full year as a Varsity Jumper. And while I wouldn't have been bumped down to JV because I was sick and had to miss a show or anything like that . . . it's just one of those weird thought-processes of a teen's brain. I didn't want to miss the show. And I was NOT going to the infirmary! (Nothing wrong with the infirmary . . . I just wasn't going.)

Anyway, I showered and changed into my pjs and headed straight to my bed. Luckily, my bed was right next to the window.

Now, I think I must've just had some viral bug that was going around (no gastrointestinal, um, "issues" to deal with - just a fever and fatigue) so it's not like I could've done anything to get rid of it (other than to rest, drink fluids, and probably spend a night or two in the infirmary so as not to spread the bug).

But back to the story . . . on this particular cold, winter evening, I was hot. I was burning up. Tired Fall-down exhausted. Had a headache. I went to my bed. I felt like I was going to burn a hole through my sheets. So I opened the window.

In the wintertime in NW Indiana.

It felt WONDERFUL. Ahhh, relief. Nice, cool air flowing over me. I was in a haze. Was I awake? Or asleep? I vaguely remember hearing voices. My roommates? Friends from across the hall? They were familiar voices, nonetheless. Wendy? Rosann? Kristi? I'm not sure.

I remember that the bedroom lights were on.

I then remember that Wendy came over and closed the window. Somebody had gone to our dorm mother's apartment down the hall and had gotten a thermometer. In my mouth it went. Obviously, I had a fever. I was burning up. I wanted the window open. Somebody got me a glass of water; another got me a glass of orange juice.

I think I'd said I didn't want to go to the infirmary. That I was going to go to the horse show. I have a little bottle of Tylenol in the lock box in my desk. Please get a couple for me.

Our dorm mother came in to check. No, please don't make a fuss. I'm going to bed; I'm okay.

I slept fitfully. I had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom, after all the liquids everyone had pushed on me. My three roommates must've really bundled up that night, because I remember begging and pleading to keep the window open a crack. But I'm assuming one of them closed it after I'd fallen asleep.

And then the alarm clock (mine? Candi's?) went off way too early. Horse show mornings always start off really early. Especially early if you've been sick the night before.

We'd made it to the Riding Hall that morning, got the horses loaded into the trailer, made sure all the equipment and necessities were loaded in the "tack room" portion of the trailer, and we were ready to load ourselves up. Typically, those teammates with the most seniority would get to ride in the dually's cab, enjoying either heat or a/c, depending on the season. Everyone else would have to ride in the "tack room" portion of the trailer. Shhh, that probably wouldn't fly very well these days.

Well, since I would've had to ride in the trailer as a sophomore, with a bunch of juniors and seniors taking up the dually (our coach would've been driving), I was kinda milling about, waiting til the last moment before getting in.

But then Candi came to me and stated, "You're riding in the truck." She had a you're not arguing with me tone of voice.

Okay. I wasn't going to argue with her. Not only was she giving me an order, I wasn't feeling like arguing. I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. But I desperately wanted to show at the same time. I was sick. I was a teen. Don't try and find the logic.

As I was getting ready to get into the truck, I heard somebody - another teammate (Drew, maybe?) - arguing with Candi. All I could hear was Candi's voice quietly, but forcefully saying, "She's SICK! She WILL ride in the truck. Do you understand?"

And that was it. I was definitely riding in the truck. I think everyone knew I wasn't feeling well, but it was something that nobody talked about, other than that brief exchange I'd overheard.

Fortunately, I didn't get anybody else sick, though I vaguely remember trying not to breathe near anyone else. And I brought home some ribbons, too. Nothing stellar, but in the ribbons, nevertheless.

And that is how I remember the event. Now, keep in mind I was sick and in need of sleep, so I may not have remembered it exactly as it happened, but this is the way my brain stored my memories of this event.

Oh, and that Saturday night's sleep? It was the smartest thing I'd done that week.

Riding Hall circa May 2009, Culver Academies, Culver, IN

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Next week's Memory Lane Friday is "No Theme" so it'll be a nice surprise to see different topics.

Memory Lane Friday - A Game

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Game."

The first game that came to mind was the first polo game my team and I won back at Culver Girls Academy, Culver, IN.

Girls were able to join the JV and Varsity Jumping Teams (the hunter/jumper team), and had their own mounted drill team, the Equestriennes. They were also a part of the Rough Riders team - the mounted vaulting team. But when I started school there as a freshman, there was no girls' polo team - no opportunity for us to play polo.

That changed, however, my senior year. I'm not sure exactly what changed the leadership's mind (was it because we nagged pleaded all the time?), or when their minds changed. But somehow, something changed their minds.

Fall semester of my senior year, I was in an Advanced Equitation class (a two-period mounted horsemanship class to better our riding skills, meeting twice a week), and the instructor was Capt. Chris Kerner. He was also the Varsity Jumping coach at some point during my time on that team, as well as the Varsity Polo coach. Both the Jumping and Polo teams had practice after the day's academic (and specialized classes like phys ed or equitation) classes were over.

Anyway, since he was one of the polo coaches, and since I was the only girl in this particular equitation class full of polo players (mostly Varsity, a few JV), he decided to spend a few classes playing polo. Or in my case, teaching me the basics.

I remember being my usual relaxed self, when I walked into the office to check on which horse I was riding. I was expecting Black Lightning or maybe Black Tux or maybe another of the Varsity Jumping horses. See, I was pretty comfortable with all the flat work or jumping we did, because that's what I did all the time. I was good at it.

But no.

He gives me a horse number (each horse had a numbered stall, with that number on a corresponding saddle, bridle, and set of brushes assigned to that horse only). I became nervous, right there on the spot.

It was a number I knew to be in the polo pony section. Sure enough, when I asked, "Is this ____?" (insert whatever the polo pony's name was), I found out it was a polo pony. I think it may have been the pony named Finally, whom many mistakenly called Finale. I was surprised and my nervousness came from the fact that I knew NOTHING about polo.

Sure, I was a strong rider, but polo? Now roles would be reversed. I would no longer be the strongest rider. I'd be a competent rider, doing a new task poorly in front of a bunch of Varsity Polo players who were very good at the task at hand.

He said that we'd be able to play polo, and I asked, "Even me?!" Yep.

So off I went to quickly groom and tack up my pony.

And then we all mounted up in the arena. Oh, before heading out, Capt. Kerner had gotten a polo helmet for me and put my initials on the back of it.

I mounted up, and he had me warm up a bit, just trotting a bit around the ring. When he called me in, he had a mallet in hand for me. He showed me how to put the strap around my hand and the basic swings. He had me practice hitting a ball from a walk. I felt a bit like a dunce. But he had me practice on my own, using one half of the arena, while he had the guys scrimmage using the other half.

At some point, he told me the basic rules, and at one point, when explaining the finer points of defending the goal against a penalty shot, said, "Just don't block the ball with your face!"

During another equitation class, he actually let me scrimmage with the guys. Made me SO nervous, but it was good, because it helped me learn, and I was playing with players much better than I, so it pushed me to learn on the go.

Well, for the rest of the semester, we'd occasionally have an equitation class dedicated to polo, but we went back to our "regularly scheduled programming" - hunter/jumper lessons, trail rides, swimming the horses in the lake, an occasional ride into town to get ice cream at Dairy Queen (half the class would dismount and go in to get ice cream and bring it out for everyone while the other half would hold their horses, literally, as they went inside).

And then at some point, I learned that there would be a GIRLS' polo team the upcoming spring!! I was TOO excited. I learned that we needed at least 6 girls to participate. One of my good friends, Debra, was excited about it, too. Another friend, Katy, was also interested. Pretty soon we had exactly 6 riders, and one team manager.

I learned that it would be considered a "club" sport, not a "Varsity/JV" sport . . . though we were allowed to get the polo emblem on our varsity sweaters, if we already lettered in a Varsity sport - which I had (Varsity Jumping). Or something like that. All I know is that this first season, it was a "club" sport, but I had the polo mallet on my Varsity Sweater along with the jumping horse.

But the only problem for me was that the season would run concurrently with the Varsity Jumping season. I absolutely loved being on the jumping team. It was something I was good at, and it was just so fun. But I'd also wanted a girls' polo team for so long.

I picked polo.

(I did, however take a break for a couple weeks to ride with the Varsity Jumpers because I'd wanted to ride in the Culver Invitational Horse Show that spring. Neither the CGA Polo coach nor the Varsity Jumping coach had any problems whatsoever with this arrangement).

Our coach, by the way, was an alumna - Becky Ringley (Ms. Ringley, as we called her). She knew a lot about polo and was excited to teach us.

She made sure we knew the rules inside and out. She had us practice in the polo cages (like batting cages but with a horse frame, where we could sit on a "horse" and practice our swings). She had us practice without mallets, so our technique would be strong. She was tough on us. I remember that distinctly.

But I grew to appreciate the sport immensely. Sure, I'd enjoyed watching it. And I had learned a lot from Capt. Kerner. But Ms. Ringley was so darned hard on us . . . while practice wasn't necessarily "fun" at the time, we learned a LOT.

Unfortunately, since we were so new to the sport, and maybe because our team was in its infancy, our win-loss record was less than stellar. I think it ended up being 6 L - 2 W. Ouch!

But those two games we won (right in the middle of the season, I think)? . . . oh, man, were they fun!

The first one was Friday evening. It was thrilling. I don't remember who we played or any details other than the fact that I played that whole game that night. And I had 1 goal and 1 assist, if I remember correctly. I still get all butterflies-in-my-stomach excited thinking I had a goal and an assist in a winning game!!

I think the line-up was Katy playing #1 (offense), I was #2 (offense/defense), and either Ursula or Debra was #3 (defense).

It was sweet, this win.We were FLYING after the game, as we took care of the ponies and put all the equipment away.

There happened to be some dance going on that evening and we all went after we ran back to shower quickly and put on appropriate girly clothes. The dance happened to be outside. There was a bonfire and a DJ.

And I remember hearing "The Look" by Roxette and Nicki (another teammate) said, "Oooh, this should be our song! This is a perfect song for the team!"

I also remember hearing "Wild Wild West" by Escape Club, but only because Debra liked it. She had that typical big '80s teased hair being held in place by copious amounts of Aqua Net hair spray . . . she said the lyrics "I love her eyes and her wild, wild hair" were about her!

So every time I hear one of those two songs on XM's '80s station, I remember being SO excited at actually winning a polo game.

CGA Polo, Spring 1989

I'm standing; I'm the second from the right in the light polo shirt.
I had to scan this photo from my senior yearbook, so the quality is not great. 

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Check back next week when the topic is "A Tourist Trap."

Memory Lane Friday - A Favorite Movie

Okay, I took a break from Memory Lane Friday last week due to the long weekend when Andrew, Livie, and I were at my parents' place.

But now I'm back for the favorite movie topic. This is another tough one to try and narrow down. So I'm going to talk about two in particular.

I'd have to say that my favorite movie growing up was International Velvet, the 1978 sequel to National Velvet (with Elizabeth Taylor as Velvet Brown). Surprise, surprise, an equestrian movie!

International Velvet, by the way, starred the great Anthony Hopkins, Christopher Plummer, and Tatum O'Neal as young Sara Brown, Velvet Brown's niece.

How I desperately wanted to be Sara Brown from Cave Creek, AZ, riding on the Olympic Eventing team and winning the gold (but for the U.S., not for Britain, obviously)! One of my friends, Leslie, and I would watch International Velvet at my house the night before a horse show, without fail, and we'd go for pizza with her parents at the end of the day, after we wrapped up at the show. It was our tradition. We practically knew the lines by heart. If I watched it today, I'd probably still remember many of them!

Here's a clip of International Velvet. It's kind of a long one, but FYI: the part I always wanted to re-create starts around 4:10.

Of course, during the fictional movie Olympics when Sara is riding, she falls and hurts her shoulder (in the clip above, it's around 5:20). Back in May 1983 (I was 12.5 years old), I actually fell off my horse Chico as we were jumping, and I broke my right collar-bone.

Now I don't remember this part (due to concussion), but apparently I was repeating to my riding coach, Debbie, and my friend Leslie, "This is just like International Velvet! That was just like the bogey fence!" (They refer to the jump she fell at as a "bogey fence" at some point in the movie because other riders had problems with it, too.) Man-o-man, what the brain will think when it's in a jumble.

Then when I was in college, I remember seeing posters for The Cutting Edge (the original one from 1992) at the movie theater, but for some reason, I never got around to seeing it . . . 

. . . until spending some time at my parents' lake house, that is. My brothers had rented it from the local video store because there were thunderstorms rolling through and we couldn't do water sports out on the lake.

And we watched it and watched it . . . and watched it a million times, or so it seemed. But it was such a fun movie to watch! Every so often - ever since those few days that summer - I try to watch it, just because it IS fun. And Doug Dorsey (the hockey-player-turned- finger painter figure-skater) wears a Chicago Blackhawks jersey. Can't go wrong with THAT, right? They have been my favorite team for YEARS, and are now in the Stanley Cup Finals. Woo hoo!! Okay, but I'm off track now, aren't I? Hahaha!

Anyway, here's the trailer for The Cutting Edge:

Boy, that was fun reminiscing about favorite movies growing up. Of course, now I'm going to have to find International Velvet on DVD. My VHS copy got ruined long ago. And I have to see if I can get The Cutting Edge on my Netflix queue. I'll bet I'll still think they're fun to watch.

Click on the button for the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday posts:

Memory Lane Friday - A Favorite Book

Oh, boy. This is gonna be really, really hard to narrow down! For as long as I can remember, I have been a bibliophile.

My mom always read to me when I was young. And because of this, I can hardly remember a time when I didn't know how to read.

Reading was a little vacation - a way to head off into some wonderful other place, where I could do anything the characters in my books were doing.

Therefore to pick a favorite book? This is hard.

So I think I'll "cheat" a little and pick a series of books.

Anyone care to guess what that series is? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Well, just about any girl who was an avid equestrian was also an avid fan of "The Black Stallion" series by Walter Farley. (I also liked "The Island Stallion" series, but in this post I'll focus on the stories about Alec and "The Black.")

I must've had all the books in the series. But what started it off is when my mom got me my first books in "The Black Stallion" series for Christmas one year . . . okay, it was "Santa" and "he" had left them in my stocking. It was a boxed set of four, including "The Black Stallion," "The Black Stallion Returns," and two other ones from the same series (not including any from "The Island Stallion" series).

I started reading the first one, "The Black Stallion," and I was hooked. I loved all the adventures that Alec and "The Black" experienced. I loved how "The Black" acted - a spirited, spunky horse with a lot of character. I remember imagining this huge black horse with a flowing mane and tail. Looking back on it, the image I had of "The Black" was really not that of an actual Arabian horse, with dished face, dainty ears, high-carried tail.

Rather, I think I imagined him to look more like a Friesian horse - much bigger, more massive, ready to pull a carriage or perform dressage, instead of running like the wind and winning races like Alec and "The Black" did in the books.

Anyway, it was fun getting lost in those books. I'm sure I read a number of them more than once. And I specifically remember reading "The Black Stallion's Ghost" and "The Black Stallion Mystery" at least two times each! And while I was creeped out by "The Black Stallion's Ghost," I was also thrilled at the same time. There was just something about that book that fascinated me. Creepy, yes. But fascinating, too! Somehow the supernatural aspect of the book made it not only spooky to me when I first read it, but hard to put down.

And since I don't have any photos of these books, or of myself while reading them, I'll add a photo of Black Lightning (stall #35) from Culver. No, he's not a black stallion, but he IS a black appaloosa (all black except for his white facial markings, and a couple hard to see white spots on his rump and his belly). I rode him sometimes for equitation class at Culver (Culver Academies in Culver, IN), especially in the summertime during Sarge's class. Or sometimes I'd ride him for Varsity Jumping. He was kind of a nut, but I loved riding him!

Please click on the box below to read this week's other Memory Lane Friday entries:

Memory Lane Friday (a day late) - A Sporting Event

Okay, I'll play along; I like the idea of Memory Lane Fridays.

I was thinking about what I'd post yesterday and then the next thing I know, it's mid-day Saturday! Oops! Next week, I'll be sure to post (or try to post) on Friday evening after Livie has gone to bed. ;)

Let's see. There are a couple of sporting events that I was thinking about writing about, but I think I've narrowed it down to the one really FUN memory.

Back in the day, I used to be an avid equestrian. I really didn't care much about anything but riding . . . except for maybe photography, art class, and what book we'd get to read next in English. (I was . . . and still am . . . a big ol' bookworm.)

Anyway, while I attended Culver Girls Academy (CGA), I was on the Varsity Jumping Team. We usually had a blast going to various shows in the area. And we'd typically have the Culver Invitational Horse Show (a home show for us) in the spring, in the big outdoor arenas across the street from the riding hall. Riders from around the area (Indiana, Michigan, maybe Illinois, and perhaps other places) would participate in this show. And a horse show judge would come in to fulfill judging duties over the weekend for this show.

It's actually this show that I'm thinking about and fondly remembering - the May 1989 show during my senior year at Culver: just about a month before graduating. I'd actually been on the CGA Varsity Polo team this particular semester. But since I'd been on the Varsity Jumping Team since the spring semester of my freshman year, I had a tremendous urge to ride in Culver's Invitational Horse Show one final year. This would probably be my last big show before heading off to college and not being able to ride regularly, if at all.

So about a month or so before the show, I spoke to my polo coach and told her I was thinking about riding in the show; would she have a problem if I rode with the Varsity Jumpers for that week prior to the show, and then compete that whole weekend? I was so excited when she said go for it.

Meanwhile, I was still going to polo practice, having a blast picking up a new sport. After we tacked up our ponies and headed to the arena, I'd mount up and warm up without stirrups, picking up my stirrups only when we started scrimmaging.

See, I was riding as much as I could without stirrups to get my legs super tight, like steel. I knew I'd be riding in Adult Equitation classes for the first time, and I wanted to be ready.

Oh, a bit of an explanation for those of you who are not familiar with equestrian terms: riders in equitation classes are judged on their form (correct posture while mounted), and how they handle their horses (the more invisible your cues to your horse are, the better). Plus, since I'd already turned 18 in November of 1988, I was no longer able to ride in the Junior equitation classes - it would be Adult classes from here on out.

And of course, I was still practicing with the CGA Equestriennes (the CGA Honor Organization team that performs musical rides). These practices occurred after jumping and polo practices were over. So when I rode with the Equestriennes, I'd ride the whole practice without stirrups.

So after my "show preparation week" with the Varsity Jumpers, I was ready. And I was excited. I really enjoyed showing.

After a full morning of showing, it was now late Saturday afternoon - the first day of showing would be over within a few hours.

Finally, it was time to head into the ring for my first ever Adult Equitation class. I was riding Sir Ebon, a kinda fuzzy horse who was so incredibly smooth to ride - he had gaits that truly felt like you were on a rocking horse. Nice and smoooooth.

Once all the riders were in the ring, the judge had us go through our paces, including taking our feet out of the stirrups and crossing them over the the fronts of our saddle (so they wouldn't bang against our horses' sides each time they took a stride, and probably to ensure no one's feet "accidentally" went back into them prematurely). Since I'd been practicing so much without stirrups, this was a piece of cake. I could've gone on and on without stirrups, even smiling at the judge as Sir Ebon and I trotted past her, neither of us tired at all.

One of my riding instructors (Lt Michael Stahl) was standing by the ring, watching. At one point, he said, "You're doing well. Keep it up and you should place high!"

But, since riding without stirrups does take a lot of practice and is a lot of work to maintain, there is only so long a judge can have a class ride without them. So we eventually got our stirrups back.

Finally, after the judge had seen all she needed to see, all the riders lined up in the center of the ring, with our numbers (on our backs) facing the judge.

It seemed like we were there forever. Finally, after what felt like HOURS (but was only a few minutes - 5-10, tops), the announcer stated over the loudspeaker that we had the results. A lot of times, horse shows will have ribbons for 1st through 6th places. I've occasionally seen bigger shows having ribbons through 8th place. This show had ribbons through 6th. And a person (one of the horse show volunteers) with all six ribbons was standing near the middle of the ring, ready to pass them out to the riders who earned them.

And then the announcer started with 6th place, stating something to the effect of "In 6th place, number __(whatever it was)" and then saying that rider's name. That rider walked up to the volunteer, received his or her ribbon, and exited the ring.

Then 5th place . . . I think I was holding my breath, waiting to hear my number. When the number was announced . . . it was somebody else's.

Waiting for the 4th place announcement . . . more breath holding, and more disappointment that it wasn't me.

When it came to the 3rd place announcement, I was thinking that it was altogether possible that I was in the top three, especially since Lt. Stahl had thought I was doing well enough to place high.

But when they announced the 3rd place rider, it still wasn't me. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back disappointment, and telling myself not to worry about it. That I'd be in other non-equitation classes at this show, other types of classes where I usually performed much better.

So now it was time for the red ribbon - 2nd place. I held my breath, looking at the volunteer with the red 2nd place ribbon and that blue ribbon I wanted so badly. The volunteer was a fellow Culver student; if I remember correctly, I think it was Rosann, a fellow Equestriennes teammate and good friend. She was standing there looking at us, a bunch of riders still left, but only two ribbons remained . . .

. . . and then I couldn't believe it! 2nd place was announced and it still wasn't my number. Suddenly, just before the announcer said the rider's name, I had a panicked butterfly sensation in my stomach! What the heck WAS my number?! I suddenly couldn't remember! Was it me? No, it wasn't. Was it?

Nope. During my momentary confusion, the announcer said someone else's name.

And then I was really disappointed.

But then the 1st place number was called while I once again held my breath, feeling that familiar disappointment again, and wishing it were just all over already . . . and when the number was announced, it was the number I'd kept repeating over and over in my head! It was my number! But I was so surprised, I didn't move at first, not sure if it had really been my number.

Then I heard the announcer say my name, and I was filled with relief and disbelief! I just couldn't believe I'd won! First of all, wow! I'd won an equitation class! That rarely happened (I usually did well in other types of classes). And secondly, it was my first Adult Equitation class! Double wow!

The Varsity Jumping coach, Capt. Chris Kerner, a long time instructor of mine while I was at Culver, was sitting near the gate with the biggest grin I'd ever seen as I rode past. Another instructor, Ms. Leslie Gordon (the Equestriennes and JV Jumping coach), saw his big ol' smile, teasing him about it. And Capt. Kerner's response? "Well, what else would you do if your kid was the best!" That kind of compliment meant as much as the blue ribbon.

I was so excited about this win; it seemed like an unlikely victory and I really appreciated it. After this first day of showing was over, and I'd cared for Sir Ebon and returned him to his stall, I was walking back to my dorm in the twilight. It was during this walk while I was replaying the events of the day, that I came upon one of my English instructors, Mr. Wiley. He saw me in my riding clothes, and asked how I was doing at the show. I was so excited that I just blabbed on and on about the day. He laughed, smiled big, and congratulated me on how well I'd done. I think he must've been surprised because I was usually much more reserved during class, not getting quite so animated, even if we were talking about a book or story I really loved.

As we said our "I'll see you on Monday in class" and goodbyes, I enjoyed the remaining walk back to my dorm, that wonderful spring evening after an exciting day.

(Oh, and by the way . . . I think I still have that blue ribbon somewhere, tucked away with other very important mementos. LOL!)