The annual church sleigh ride is a part of my earliest memories. It was such a country experience for a city girl. Time and space seem to have dwindled with age, but back then it felt like we drove for hours to get there. We'd pull into a long, mucky lane way that smelled of animal, and there they'd be. Horses. I have always held horses in both awe and terror. So much bigger than my cat. Like most girls, I had crowned horses by favourite animal without knowing a thing about them. It just seemed like the right thing to do. (Later, when being tough was the flavour of the month, I traitorously made a new alliance with the Tiger, and folded my horse posters neatly away in a box in the closet.)
Our local sleigh ride:
