Relocating from Wisconsin to east-central Tennessee awakened my inner country girl. It’s all Pat and John’s fault. They introduced me to line dancing and horse riding. Line dancing wasn’t intimidating because I am a dancer and pick up steps fast. The music and exercise help me stay active and joyful. But I have not been on a horse since I was a teen.
“You’re too old, fat, and weak to ride,” I told myself. “You won’t be able to pull yourself up in the saddle, and you’ll probably fall when you dismount.”
But Pat and John encouraged me to try. Pat and John’s Mafia-named horses, Doc, Romeo, Ted, and Vito, are stabled at their thirty-acre homestead. Last week’s blog pictured me on Doc with a huge smile. Doc is John’s Tennessee Walking Horse. He caught my attention from the four horses, and when John told me I could ride Doc, I was thrilled!
It took two tries and a stool to mount, but I rode around the fenced enclosure after Pat's knowledgeable instruction. Thirty minutes on Doc went fast, but I dismounted on wobbly legs without falling. Stiffness plagued me the next day, but I was ready to ride again.
Instead, Pat texted our church friends asking for help to run fence. Initially, I thought running fence was riding the horses along the fence, rather than moving fencing, as in manual labor. Once Pat told me what they needed, I volunteered willingly. Frankly, I suspected I would just be underfoot since I had never run fence before.
The fall weather was cool and brilliant with sunshine, a perfect day to enjoy the outdoors and relief from summer’s humid heat. Invigorated and determined to rise, once again, above the challenge of my senior-aged body, I dressed in work clothes, boots and gloves.
The fence portions that needed moving to form an open area were fastened to steel rods with rusted metal wire. The first few wires I untwisted were awkward until I could leverage the pliers against the steel rods. Even with a pinched finger and a stab of a barbed wire, I loved every minute of working outdoors and helping our friends.
As Pat and I worked down the 150-foot length of fencing, we swapped concerns for friends and loved ones and a bit of gossip. Pat saw me eyeing her old tractor.
“When we finish the fence, you can drive the tractor.”
I jumped at getting behind the wheel and driving around the field, waving at Pat like a kid.
I could hear my inside kid saying, "Hey mom, look at me drive the tractor! Am I doing good?"
She laughed at me and took pictures and a video–like a mom proud of her child succeeding at an unfamiliar task. What a great friend!
We took a break over Little Debbie pumpkin cookies and coffee at the house, ending our time together with a prayer for the concerns we raised and the precious family we have in each other. Tennessee keeps giving us surprising gifts of friendship and opportunities to be country people.
Today, my John is helping Pat’s John with the next steps in running fence. Pat sent me the video of John’s joy on the back of John’s big tractor, losing his hat in the wind.
Becoming real country people takes more than one morning of outdoor work or thirty minutes riding a horse. Pat and John’s giving, fun-loving nature, which includes all their family and friends, is foundational to becoming country.
I loved this Nancy. Keep them coming.
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