My left butt cheek—the spot right between the upper thigh and that crease—is sore. The sensation is somewhere between a rug burn, an achy muscle, and a sunburn. And I’m not even a little mad about it. That’s because…I got to ride a horse today!
I love horses. Growing up, I had a horse named Gypsy and loved riding her across my grandparents’ rolling, seven-acre pasture. I also rode at my friend Jesse’s house—his family were team ropers, so I tagged along to rodeo events and even learned a little about roping. They had this lightning-fast Thoroughbred I sometimes got to ride. (I also went snipe hunting there once—unsuccessfully, of course.)
Today I went to Productive Town—otherwise known as my front porch and yard. I stained the wooden pillars and planted four areas with native flowers, vegetables, and herbs. I’m most proud of the back garden bed. I had cleaned, prepped, and planted it earlier this spring, so this was its second tending. The soil is getting more robust with every round of compost I add. I’m hopeful it’ll help protect the plants from disease and maybe even keep unwanted pests at bay.
Have you heard the silly Mariners fan inside joke? On September 5th, someone on Twitter posted: “I have paid an Etsy witch to unfuck the Mariners, besties help me manifest.” They even attached the $19.99 invoice from SpellByLuna. Well…as of tonight, the M’s are on a nine-game winning streak—their longest in 24 years. And with a 10–3 lead, plus Cal Raleigh tying Ken Griffey Jr. for most home runs, things are looking up, up, up.
I’ve been a Mariners fan my whole life. My dad had season tickets during the 1995 and 1998 series, and I still remember him pulling me out of school early so we could head up to the 300 level of the old Kingdome. That was the same stadium I later watched implode on live television, sitting in shock and crying. I’d seen monster truck rallies and concerts there, too, but once those ceiling panels started falling, it was clear it was time for an upgrade.
But back to the horse thing—because I didn’t really explain how or why it happened. While looking for free manure for my soil project, I stumbled upon a number for horse riding lessons. I called, and the young woman on the line said she could meet later in the week—or, after a pause, “you could come right now.”
With nothing on the afternoon calendar, Evelyn pulled on long pants, grabbed her new Toothless toy, and off we went, nine minutes down the road. From start to finish, it was delightful. The teacher—a 16-year-old girl who could’ve been a horse whisperer—made us feel completely comfortable. She guided us through brushing the horse, holding the rope, and even helped Evelyn pull herself up into the saddle. She explained how she’d worked with the horse to build its training and confidence, and it was impressive.
We’ll be heading back next week, no question. Because of course, I want more of that in my life. And so does Evelyn.
Alright, I’ll see you here tomorrow. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 