Tag: Ponies

Ponies Needed

Over Thanksgiving before I even realized what had happened I became a pony for my two nephews.  All I remember was that one moment I was kneeling on the floor and the next there was a five year old scampering up my back and I was on all fours.  As soon as I made peace with this development, his three year old brother was invited up and he began climbing across my calves trying to hoist himself up onto my butt.  The pony was forced to draw the line at one rider at a time.  After jostling them both around my father’s, my knees braving the hard wood floors, I was rewarded with carrots which they nicely washed at the pony’s request.  

With Christmas coming, I am thinking that my young riders might enjoy each enjoy a collection of ponies (and save me from becoming their pony of choice again). Ideally I’d like to make each of them a little book – different ponies in each.  If it is not too cheeky to be asking, I and my aging knees will be eternally grateful if you would consider sharing your favorite ponies for these young tykes.  If they exist high resolution versions can also be sent to sharon dot lynch at verizon dot net.  Thanks very much in advance to anyone who can help me out.

They Hate Us For Our Ponies

(AP)   ORLANDO, Fla. (AP) – Authorities blew up a stuffed pony – determined to be a “suspicious device” – after it was found outside a central Florida school. The Orange County Sheriff’s Office reported that the toy was found near the Waterbridge Elementary School Tuesday morning.

No one was allowed in or out of the building while bomb disposal experts destroyed the stuffed animal. It was ultimately deemed “non-threatening.”

No injuries were reported.

Time to Come Out of the Closet

Warning to All Pony Lovers: this may upset you, a LOT!

It may make you want to tar, feather,and banish me forever.

But I cannot pretend any longer.

I don’t like Ponys.

They scare the HELL outa me.

I have Pony PTDS.

And very time I post a comment, someone gives me (shudder) MORE ponies.

I don’t know what to do.

I am also scared to death of HORSES, and the mere thought of running into a (cringe) UNICORN, makes my teeth chatter, even if they’re not in my mouth at the time.

I wasn’t born this way. Once upon a time, I even asked Santa to BRING me a Pony.

I was really pissed when he didn’t.  

I wasn’t born scared of ponies. Or horses.

But that was before I met one of each in person.

My kids wanted a pony. I bought one for them and that’s how I met “Puffin”, the Pony from Hell.

He was one of those pretty miniature ponies. I’d seen some dogs as big as that pony , so I wasn’t a bit scared of him, besides I probably weighed more than HE did.  The guy showed me how to put a bridle and saddle on him. Puffin stood there so patient and docile, such a sweet, gentle boy. With his owner leading, he gave both of my little girls their very first pony ride around our yard. I was so happy! I never got my own pony, but I got one for them and it felt like some long awaited victory!

Then the guy turned him loose in my small fenced in pasture, and left. They were moving out of state the next day.  Later that day, sugar cubes and apples in hand, I went out to get acquainted with Puffin by myself. Being a city girl, I wondered how you call a pony: do you whistle? Say “Here, Pony! Here, Pony?” What?

Puffin finally wandered over to the fence where I was. I held out the sugar cubes. He just looked at them and snorted.  The apple, then? Same thing. He sniffed it, snorted, shook his head then  went right back to standing stock still, staring me right in the eye with a distinctly UNFRIENDLY stare. I gingerly offered the apple again..at which time he dropped his head, knocked the apple to the ground, BIT MY HAND ,then walked a few steps off,turned his back and took a big crap.  

Now I am not stupid. I can read non verbal cues. This pony definitely did NOT like me.

To make a long story short, over the next month I must have run ten thousand miles around that pasture trying to catch that damned pony, to no avail. More than once he turned the tables and chased ME with those big teeth bared! Nothing worked. I made sure he was well fed, well watered, had good shelter and endless treats, all of which he rejected in favor of another bite of my hand.  I spent countless hours sitting by the fence, using my most persuasive communication skills to win his trust, but he’d just stand there munching grass and pooping as if I didn’t exist. Meanwhile, I’m  trying to explain to two tearful little girls that Mommy just can’t CATCH their pony, so they could ride it. Having to look at a pony they could not ride became just too much, SO I found another good home for Puffin, who, it eventually turned out, simply hated women, but not men.

As for HORSES, meet Diamond, a Tennesee Walker, about 16 hands high.  I rented the pasture to his owner, who was flat out determined to teach me to ride a horse. Diamond was gentle, he said, no reason to be afraid of good ol Diamond!  Oh, hell no!  The minute I climbed up onto his back, he reared up, took off like a bat outa hell, and threw me hard into the creek! Dislocated shoulder. Nice horse, that ol Diamond.

So there, now I’ve done it.

I have outed my self as non-pony-lover.

I am aware this may be grounds for banning.

Just please don’t give me any more ponies.

give them to each other instead.



Loose Change

Saw this in Thursday’s Boston Globe:

From Samuel Adams’s calls for revolution in the 1700s, to Frederick Douglass’s antislavery orations of the following century, to Senator John F. Kerry’s concession in the 2004 presidential race, Boston’s Faneuil Hall is one of America’s most storied public stages.

But Murphy’s most recent proposal, to substantially raise the fees for renting out Faneuil Hall’s meeting space, brought rebuke from some fellow councilors yesterday who see the brick building with its famous grasshopper watching over the city as all-but-hallowed space.

“I think it should be free,” Councilor John Tobin said. “It’s a public building. It’s the people’s building, really.”

Murphy insists he’s not looking to turn the cradle of liberty into a cash cow.

He said it costs the city much more to maintain the building than it collects in rental fees, currently capped at $150 per hour for a minimum of four hours. Murphy’s proposed ordinance, which yesterday was referred to committee, would increase the maximum charge for renting the iconic building’s Great Hall to $500 an hour.

RUThinking what IMThinking? One hundred fifty an hour? Let’s see, eight hours equals twelve hundred dollars. It was built to hold sheep. Maybe we could bring ponies.

Faneuil Hall

Faneuil Hall

Pony Party! Gackt and Hyde! w/Poll!

So, here we are at the end of another somewhat cantankorous week at Docudharma!  Whew…what a ride!  On the other hand, here we are at the still existing Docudharma, which is a good thing, I’d wager, for most of us.  With that in mind, here’s some stuff which we can all agree is good and wholesome: Gackt and Hyde! 🙂

Pony Party: Thanksgiving evening with Gackt and Hyde!

This is my Thanksgiving gift.  Sure, it’s stuff I like, but I think many will like it, too!  Some of my thanks go to the readers of Docudharma.  It appears that at least a few of you seem to like/pay some attention to what I write, and for that I thank you.  The stream over at Big Orange is rough to always be going against, and it’s good to find a place of somewhat like minded individuals (even those of you who have yet to be converted to Dennisism!).

So, here goes!

What a little racehorse taught me about life

I read the news today, oh my. And, for a follower of the “ponies”, it is a sad day indeed. The legendary racehorse, John Henry has passed. Gone to the big race in the sky to battle down the homestretch with the other greats of the sport. And, I am heartbroken, indeed. For John Henry, although giving me great thrills at his exploits at the track, also taught me a great deal about life.