Above are three English saddles I bought at an antique store in Morrisville this week,being investigated a little by Maisy. I paid $60 for the lot, which felt like a bargain to me because, my gosh, they're leather and someone in Argentina must have had a job of work to make them. Of course, I am leaving aside the fact that I don't ride horses, nor does anyone in my family. Allow me to digress on this point for a moment...
I have actually resolved not to ride horses, nor to allow anyone in my family to develop an interest therein. Of course horses are gorgeous and I am connected with some lovely horse-riding people. I have noticed,however, that horses are sort of like the Sun (or at least Jupiter) in the lives of these people. They are massive, gravity-creating entities around which their owners seem forced to orbit. Everyone I know who has horses spends more money on them than they do on their mortgages. They all seem happy enough to revolve around their horses and to pay for the privilege but I am not going there - despite the fact that we own lots of land and I have a 12-year-old daughter... She can put one of these saddles on a saw horse and pretend, for free. Until I sell the saddles of course.
I bought these, as you have probably figured out by now, with the purpose of reselling them at what I hope might be a small profit. I have decided (and you knew this was coming if you've been following along), to make a foray into the world of commerce. This will, I hope, take the shape of a booth at the upcoming "British Invasion" car show in Stowe this September.
Maybe I'll take a cue from the London street hawkers of yore and develop a cry for my wares (you know, along the "cockles! mussels! hot chestnuts! scissors sharpened!" variety). Since I plan to sell all manner of items, mostly the English dishes and books and pictures - and saddles - that I can't seem to resist, this call will take some time to work out. I am open to suggestions. If you get to Stowe Sept. 17-19 this year, look for me and the kids under the blue and white striped pop-up shelter called (I have ordered a banner) "It's Splendid. I'll Take It!"
I am still awaiting approval for my booth from the event organizers but I have sent them my check and I think they'll let me in, even though I am not selling car-themed stuff. I am afraid this may mean that the kids and I will be lonely at our booth but we're all kind of excited about venturing forth. I may require Shackleton to dress like the Artful Dodger and drag the car people over to buy a teacup. I don't know...
Three Little Words
I have been thinking lately of the power of three-word descriptions to sum people up.
I was reading a little booklet on English Architectural Drawings of the 1930s, something produced in conjunction with a show on the subject in London during the 1980s, and the author of the beautifully written forward referred to someone as an "antic Cambridge don."
Hmm, I thought. This is sort of like Haiku. Let's think, what three words would nail me? I can't hope for "antic Cambridge don." Maybe, "sour-mouth bi__ch"? Sometimes that would be fair. "Past-it writer manque?" (I count that as three words because hyphenated words count as one - sorry about the missing accent). Perhaps this seems too harsh. I'll keep thinking. Why not try this out on yourself. It's not a bad exercise for a Sunday when we should all do a little reflecting.
I have been occupied these last few weekends with planning work on "It's Splendid" and will be continue to be so for the next few weekends to come. This is one reason the old Blog has languished. Thanks to those of you who have continued to drop by. I send best wishes to you to enjoy what's left of summer.
9 comments:
I love horses and here in the Hinterland, it's unseemly for a male not to know how to ride, although we wouldn't be caught dead in one of those English outfits.
Years ago, in a fit of I don't know what, I bought a quarter horse and had it trained. The purpose was to have something for the kids. They showed no interest however, and eventually, my wife made me sell it, though I did net about five hundred bucks in the deal. On balance, I agree with you. They're more trouble than they're worth, unless you own a zillion acre ranch in New Mexico.
Cheers.
I love the saddles ... and the three word challenge, right now I'm tired but happy.x
oh man...i was laughing my head off after reading the 1st paragraph...so much so that i was tempted to stop reading to avoid the explanation/justification.
good luck with the commerce. :)
R - I would _love_ to see you in full fox hunting regalia. I am thinking red tail coat, canary vest, buff trousers, high black boots, black topper and seated on a beautiful hunter - on an English saddle, hunting crop in hand. What do you think now?
Lulu - Lovely to hear from you. I am glad you are tired but happy. I have been thinking about you lately and have decided you have the most interesting life of anyone in my acquaintance. No wonder you are tired.
OMN - Thanks for the kind words. Nice to hear from you. One of my horsey friends has her eye on my saddles. They have to look for bargains where they can, given all their spending on those horses.
I'm afraid the EMBLOS would see the riding crop and fear I'd gone off on a "French Maid Outfit" tangent. Plus, I'd be drummed out of the Ozark Bushwacker Society in short order.
[Smiley Thing}
'Conflicted always wanting' seems to do the trick for me right now! I'm not talking about consumerism but rather pushing forward, trying to get ahead, and not quite letting myself work at the pace I need to in order to do it.
Beautiful saddles, be sure to rub them quite a bit before making your tidy profit!
R - I am sure the EMBLOS would _love_ to see you in that outfit. I am betting she would PAY to do so. As for the Ozark bushwackers, I don't think you should let them steer your taste in clothes.
Hi Denise - Hope your conflicts resolve favorably and soon. Good advice on those saddles. I am making mental check lists of all that needs to be done to enter the merchant class (signs, price tags). I'll add getting some saddle soap...
As a child I always wanted horses. I wanted a farm, and I wanted to ride all day. I wanted to live in a 'horsey' family and have the whole scene as my life. But it wasn't that way, though I did take a couple lessons as a kid. Flash forward to my adult life. Seven years after we bought this place, we had a barn built and we bought the nicest, gentlest, kindest horse named Bandit. He was a quarterhorse gelding. We rode him a bit but never enough. The kids took lessons but still they didn't ride much either. So we gave up the dream, but not the horse. I realized that I didn't need to ride him to enjoy him. I loved brushing him, talking to him, watching him. He was the one all the other animals turned to. If there was a moose in the pasture, Bandit would quietly lead them away. If the animals were frightened by anything, they would all head over to where Bandit was. I'm telling you; he was like a horsegod. The whole family was in horse love. When he died, we all agreed we could not go through that again. But how we adored him for all those years. I know, more than you wanted to know about my particular horse but I couldn't resist. ;<)
Nan - So glad to have you stop by. I was over at your blog recently and saw you had packed it in! I'll miss it. Perhaps you'll find a break will recharge your batteries. I am not surprised to hear you had a happy horse experience. If I had a "kindest blogger" award I would give it to you. See you around, I hope.
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