Good night, Irene
Horse show in a monsoon. Boy, have I missed this — being a show mom — which consists of being ignored, existing soundlessly, wordlessly and without being a source of embarrassment (impossible) except when something is required – gloves, a bat, a jacket, bacon-egg-and cheese sandwich. Really, nothing is better than being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by manure, for hours on end. Especially in the torrential rain, especially when I’ve forgotten my raincoat and rain boots. Though, in the midst of this wealth of horse flesh and over-privileged young girls, I saw something today that I’ve never seen before — a blind, middle-aged woman in the jumping competition. Her trainer stood by each jump and called out to her “left diagonal line, outside line” and somehow, she made it through an unfamiliar course at a strange barn, without a single fault. I can’t imagine the courage it takes to climb aboard one of these beasts, without sight, spur it on and try to fly through the air — and all in a controlled and attractive manner. Amazing. I might be getting a taste of what that’s like since Hurricane Irene blew through and our electricity is down and we’re all stumbling about in the dark, but something tells me it’s kind of different. And no one’s shouting at me “Go left! Go right! Watch out – STAIRS!” klunk.
snoeberry 