Tall Girl with Horse

Sweet P had her first riding lesson yesterday, and I swear when we pulled up to the stable there was a red wheelbarrow beside some chickens. I took it as a good omen, and tried to get a photo but forgot an essential component of the camera. Today I bet the wheelbarrow is even glazed with rain.

Sweet P rode a lazy white, blue-eyed horse named da Vinci-- I guess he doesn't take much after his namesake, but he was perfect for Sweet P. She learned how to groom and saddle him, too. When she told R about her lesson she said, "We used a brush with a name that reminded me of Indian food-- Oh! It's called a curry!"

Now I should backpedal (back trot?) and say that since the age of five Sweet P has been sending fervent prayers to any listening god that she remain short. Unfortunately, she didn't inherit the petite genes. While she was tall in California, she was at least the same height or a smidge shorter than her friends. Here in The Woods, though, she's nearly a giant among her peers. This does not please her.

Meanwhile, she's also been required, by moi, to participate in some sort of sport and has just as fervently begged the gods for release from what she considers a peculiar kind of torture.

I always thought Sweet P might enjoy riding lessons, but in the Bay Area the horses are few and far between. Now there are horses nearly everywhere we turn, and we found a stable just ten minutes from Sweet P's school, so I signed her up. Plus, Frog Mama and Green Mama say that riding is as much exercise as walking. Still, I never mentioned competition to my girl because she considers that word a type of swear.

Nearly as soon as Sweet P finished her lesson and we were in the car, she said, "J [The Horse Lady] said I'd be really good in competition because anybody can compete, but the game was not really intended for the short and squat."

Sweet P didn't say whether that means she's interested in competing, but it was the first time I'd ever seen her beam at the idea of being tall.
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PS. Second lesson today, and I remembered the camera, but it was difficult to shoot with a very crabby Buckaroo on one arm. After her lesson, Sweet P said, "I always thought I might be a natural at something!"