~ Growing Without Roots ~

My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I often wonder, is this a dream and am I still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?

1959 Penobscot Pony Club

In 1959 when we lived in Orono, Maine, I went riding at the Penobscot Pony Club in Hampden, near Bangor. Polly Briggs was my teacher. I remember cleaning stalls with her and soaping saddles and bridles when mother was late, sitting in that little room with a heater, smelling the hay and the saddle soap. It was wonderful.

There was a beautiful dark chestnut horse boarded there, 'Moonlight Sonata'. He belonged to a rich young girl who yelled at him and hit him in class. My favorite horse there was my little Star, sweet, black, chunky, with a white star on her forehead, my favorite. And there was Lollipop, a privately owned horse. On his stall was a plaque that said, “The more you lick him, the faster he goes“. He was a black and white paint who always seemed to be wearing his winter coat. I found out later that my parents actually considered buying half of him for me, but I would have to keep him at the Pony Club for his other owner.

I loved the Pony Club.