Wednesday, May 01, 2013

Pony Pictures

Jilda had a treatment today, so we headed in to Birmingham just after 8 a.m. I got her settled in the treatment room and I stepped across the drive to the cafeteria.
The cafe ladies know me by sight, because I always cut up with them. I picked up a cup of coffee and a bagel and headed to the back, pulling one of the tables a little closer to the only power outlet in the dining area.
I snapped open my MacBook and wrote my column for Sunday in less than an hour. The trick was that I had a topic when I sat down, thanks to my blog buddy Michael Estey.
A few posts ago he commented on one of my old photos about a photo of kids on a pony. That thought resonated with me because I too had a photograph of me sitting astride a pony in the summer of 1956. We lived in Indiana for almost a year. My dad had lost his job here in Alabama and went up north in search of work.
While we were there, a guy came around with a pony and took photos of neighborhood kids.
That sepia-tone picture sat on my mom's mantel for as long as I remember. I can't seem to find the photograph now, or I'd post it, but I felt like Roy Rogers on that little shetland pony.
So, writing the column today was a breeze. I hope to find the photo before I post the column next Monday.
Thanks Michael for the great idea.

5 comments:

  1. I posted a pic on my birthday a few years ago that had me sitting on a pony..yep, a guy came through the neighborhood and took pictures. It's funny that I don't remember any pics of my siblings on that pony. I must have been in the right place at the right time! Hope you find yours and post it!

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  2. I have a picture of my dad on a pony... I'll have to post it sometime... he was so cute;-)

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  3. Awwwww I'd love to see you as a kiddie on a lovely pony and I promise not to go "what?? is that really you??! what happened!??!" LOL!!

    big hugs to Jilda! Take care
    x

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  4. When I was a kid, we'd frequently visit my father's best friend in the tiny little Southern Iowa town of Williamson. There was always a little girl riding bareback on a mule up and down the only road in town. Sometimes, I'd walk by her house on the way to the little store. She'd throw rocks at me, or mud pies and yell after me when I ran. That was more than thirty years ago. She's the love of my life today, and she's still riding mules, and still throwing rocks sometimes. There's something nostalgic about any picture of a kid on a horse or a pony or a mule, ain't there? Good luck finding that picture, Rick!

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