My maternal grand mother always said I inherited my love of horses from her grandfather who was a carter back in the 1820s. Doesn't really matter as I had a deep affection for them and dreams of being an Olympic rider from an early age.
The only contact I had with Horses was when the rag and bone man came around with his horse and cart. The mare was a big bay with a white face, part Shire and as patient as they can be. She pulled the cart up and down the hills as her owner called out ”Any old rags and bones?"
People brought out ragged clothing and scrap metal to receive a few pence or if we children brought it out we were handed some sweets or a lollipop.
Growing up immediately after the war things were tight and nowadays recycling is all the rage, back then nothing went to waste
I don't know why but Mr Grant would always sit me up on the broad back of the mare. I would hold the hames loving every moment of it. No other children were allowed to sit on her so I was very privileged.
Friends of my parents, Aunty Gay and Uncle Smithy, had had marriage problems and Mummy had taken Gay and her daughter Sally in so they had a roof over their heads. Sally was a big sister to me. The marriage was sorted and they moved to the mainland. Mum, my younger sister, also Sally, and I would go and stay with them. Big Sally had a Welsh pony, Snowball, Uncle had a TB - the biggest horse in the world to me, Tiber. He was actually only 15.3.
We would go ride Snowball in the orchard always bareback. He was a fiery little so and so possibly because Sally and I would sneak him buckets of oats. Mostly we were doubled up, she was always in front and me behind.
I cannot recall a particular time but I know that we were frequently bucked off, run away with, dragged off by the low branches of the fruit trees or, the most painful, thrown into the gate or hedge when Snowball galloping straight towards the fence line, swerving at the last moment whilst we went straight ahead. I usually had a better landing because having been on the back I would land on Sally squashing her further into the brambles and thorns.
I do remember the two of us sitting in the bath in the evening admiring each other's bruises and scratches. It was never any good going indoors complaining to out mothers as there would be no sympathy.
When I was about seven I started proper lessons at a riding school across the Island, Mr Pocock. I went with two friends. First pony I rode was Fifi. On arriving the next week I was told that Fifi had died and I was put on an old grey called Wizard. The third week I was told Wizard had died. I really began to think that I had jinxed the poor animals.
The two friends parents that took turns to take us there were not happy sonthose lessons stopped. Later in the local paper here was a report that he had been closed and fined for cruelty. He was pretty ignorant of equine matters. Those animals had no access to water, he thought they could get enough from the grass.
So Riding stopped. There was a much nearer riding school but that was expensive. Begging and pleading, asking for riding money for birthday and Christmas, my parents eventually agreed to me starting there.
This was my break through into the equestrian world.
The only contact I had with Horses was when the rag and bone man came around with his horse and cart. The mare was a big bay with a white face, part Shire and as patient as they can be. She pulled the cart up and down the hills as her owner called out ”Any old rags and bones?"
People brought out ragged clothing and scrap metal to receive a few pence or if we children brought it out we were handed some sweets or a lollipop.
Growing up immediately after the war things were tight and nowadays recycling is all the rage, back then nothing went to waste
I don't know why but Mr Grant would always sit me up on the broad back of the mare. I would hold the hames loving every moment of it. No other children were allowed to sit on her so I was very privileged.
Friends of my parents, Aunty Gay and Uncle Smithy, had had marriage problems and Mummy had taken Gay and her daughter Sally in so they had a roof over their heads. Sally was a big sister to me. The marriage was sorted and they moved to the mainland. Mum, my younger sister, also Sally, and I would go and stay with them. Big Sally had a Welsh pony, Snowball, Uncle had a TB - the biggest horse in the world to me, Tiber. He was actually only 15.3.
We would go ride Snowball in the orchard always bareback. He was a fiery little so and so possibly because Sally and I would sneak him buckets of oats. Mostly we were doubled up, she was always in front and me behind.
I cannot recall a particular time but I know that we were frequently bucked off, run away with, dragged off by the low branches of the fruit trees or, the most painful, thrown into the gate or hedge when Snowball galloping straight towards the fence line, swerving at the last moment whilst we went straight ahead. I usually had a better landing because having been on the back I would land on Sally squashing her further into the brambles and thorns.
I do remember the two of us sitting in the bath in the evening admiring each other's bruises and scratches. It was never any good going indoors complaining to out mothers as there would be no sympathy.
When I was about seven I started proper lessons at a riding school across the Island, Mr Pocock. I went with two friends. First pony I rode was Fifi. On arriving the next week I was told that Fifi had died and I was put on an old grey called Wizard. The third week I was told Wizard had died. I really began to think that I had jinxed the poor animals.
The two friends parents that took turns to take us there were not happy sonthose lessons stopped. Later in the local paper here was a report that he had been closed and fined for cruelty. He was pretty ignorant of equine matters. Those animals had no access to water, he thought they could get enough from the grass.
So Riding stopped. There was a much nearer riding school but that was expensive. Begging and pleading, asking for riding money for birthday and Christmas, my parents eventually agreed to me starting there.
This was my break through into the equestrian world.