My Farm Quilt Revisted Part 5

 Today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and I was so grateful to the Lord for such a wonderful day for us to get out and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine, after months of rainy cold bleak weather. I just kept thanking and thanking him. As the sun was going down, I felt so rejuvenated, I thought I would just sit down here and put up another episode of the farm quilt. So without further ado...

 

After I had completed the barn, which I was so delighted with, I decided I needed a horse. I have drawn horses in the past, so went through my old art, hoping for some inspiration, but none was forthcoming. Then I remembered this old postcard in my collection. It dates from 1907. I have always thought it the most hilarious thing, so thought, this is the exact thing! I shall just modify it to my desired needs and it shall do nicely!

I must say that photoshop is truly my friend, because it makes the steps of altering a thing so much easier. I needed the horse to face to the right, and I didn't want all those black spots on the white horse. I also didn't need the second horse at all, as I had something else entirely in mind. It wasn't long and I had a pattern all cut out, and ready to do layout on my quilt, as to where I wanted the horse and his,"rider" to be. I soon realized the second little boy wasn't what I wanted either, so left him off entirely.

I soon had my pattern drawn onto the thin white sheeting, using the same method as before. Sunshine and a handy window do make a wonderful light board. I thought at first I would make an all white horse, so began laying down stitches with white cotton crewel thread. The reason for this decision was the memory of one of the very first horses I ever rode as a child. We lived out in the country so had horses of our own, but so did the neighboring kids up the road from us. We used to gather our horses, bridle them up, as we were to poor to own a saddle, so rode bareback. We would ride up the road collecting our friends as we went. Our neighbor Debbie was nearest and she had this old blind plug of a white horse, that was so sway back and decrepit no one liked to ride him. He was also blind and slow as dirt. The kids took turns sharing their horses, so on this day I was chosen to ride the old white plug. He at least had a saddle which was a novelty to me. From the moment I got on that nag, he was determined to give me fits. He did not like the fact that I was not his owner, and kept trying to yank the reins and turn around. We kids always rode under the high power-lines, as there was a service road which we could ride on for miles, without getting onto the main road. This was imperative as the road was used by fast driven logging trucks. However, on this day, just as we were turning off the main road onto the power-line road, that old nag succeeded in getting the bit in his teeth, and took off for home on the dead run. Which in actuality was a very slow ungainly lope. I can still remember the clunk of his horseshoes as they hit the pavement, and his lumpy ungainly stride. It liked to threw me out of the saddle, and since I was used to bareback, gave me nothing I could grip his sides with but thick leather, so I hung onto the pommel for all I was worth and let him go. No amount of yanking on the reins would stop him! The whole thing was hilarious! Debbie soon caught up on the pony she was riding, stopped him and let me get off, and took her horse back, and gave me the pony to ride. I was more mortified than afraid as everyone was laughing their heads off, because it looked so funny. I'll bet that's the fastest that old plug had run in years. Anyway, it all came out in the end and we went on with our ride. I was happy because I got the neighbor, Ernie's, chocolate colored Shetland pony. Everyone wanted to ride that pony. It was trained like a circus performer, and was so fat it was like riding a giant marshmallow. Nothing else of any import happened that I can remember, but everyone told of my, "runaway" forever after!

I decided, after I had stitched for awhile, that I didn't really want a white horse. It just didn't have the character I wanted, so I decided instead to make a paint horse. I had a wonderful paint horse when I was a kid. Inherited from one of my older sisters, who had gone off to school, so wasn't around anymore to ride it. It was a mare and her name was Papoose. She and I took many a ride together and she never let me down, and was gentle as a lamb. I remember riding her across a large pasture one day, and decided to cut across the field instead of going the long way around by the road. I had forgotten that there was a large irrigation ditch in a dip, that was hard to see until you got right up on it. She and I were at full gallop and I was really enjoying it, when of a sudden there was the ditch, right at her feet. I thought she would balk, instead the next thing I knew she just took a flying leap and we were over and running without her even missing her stride. It was exhilarating to say the least, and the only time I have ever been on a horse when it jumped. It felt like flying and even her landing was nice. 

This little fellow, was just in the motion of crawling up on his grandpa's or papa's horse. When it decided to yank at the picket rope. The rope was old and worn and it broke, so the horse just took off for the barn, with the poor little guy hanging for dear life to his neck.

When we were little we mounted our horses by using a handy stump, a fence post, or if we were lucky and an adult was around, they would give us a leg up by letting us step into their clasped hands. If not there was one method that we used, only on the above mentioned Ernie's pony. That was to run up from behind, jump, place our hands on its rump and leap into position and grab the reins. It didn't mind it at all. Our Welsh pony was too tall for this method, and had a spine like the ridgepole of a roof. Talk about uncomfortable to ride. Our Shetland would have probably kicked you too the moon if you tried it. He was so short tho, you could just grab his mane and give a short jump and swing your leg over him. When Dad first brought him home, my older brother went to jump on, and he was so tall and the horse so short, he jump too far and landed in a heap on the ground on the other side. It was so hilarious, we cracked up laughing! He wouldn't ride the ponies after that, because he was just too big. With his feet almost dragging the ground, he just looked ridiculous. Besides, he was away at school most of the time and the ponies had been bought for my older sister, who loved to ride. However she soon went off to school herself, so it fell to me to take care of her ponies, Brinky & Bronco.

 

Here they are, the horse and the child, forever captured in time. Will he fall off before he reaches the haystack? We may never know?! Don't you just love his tiny red cowboy boots?! I always wanted a pair of red cowboy boots or one's with the American flag, but no such luck. We could never afford such things and when I was older it just seemed like vanity, so I never got them. Now this little fellow can have a pair, and that's good enough for me!

Here you get a fuller view of the horse and rider tearing off towards the barn. The goats are so astonished they don't know what to think?! Nothing like this has happened on the farm before, and since they aren't the cause, it has really shocked them! Maybe that's what the billy goat was looking at before, instead of the clothesline. If not, it has certainly made him forget the clothes for the moment. lol

 

You cannot have an affect, without a cause, so I thought, how did this kid get into such a predicament? It all started with Gramps! As soon as I thought of it, I knew I was right! I also knew I had this old postcard, which like the other one dates to around 1907. I needed a grandpa real quick, and thought this card might be just what I needed?! Isn't it too funny! I wish they still sold cards like this for St. Patrick's Day or just for sending something funny to family or friends. I wonder who Sylvia was, and who she was going to meet? Hopefully not the Dern's! lol

I set about scanning, and modifying the fellow, as I had done the horse. He was a challenge to be sure. But soon I had a grandpa, not unlike my own maternal grandpa, sans the balding head, mustache and beard. Mine just always had a scruffy five o'clock shadow, and chewed snus, because my Gram wouldn't allow smoking in her house. He was not a farmer he was a logger for most of his life. But he was short.

 

I redrew his face and feet, and decided against the suspenders, only because I found them too small to stitch in easily. This fellow is only 3 1/2 inches tall. I couldn't make up my mind at first if I wanted to stitch him all in like the horse and child, but in the end decided to applique his clothes and boots on.

Once again I got so into doing this I forgot to take enough pictures of the process. I gave him brown felt boots, striped pants from the old hand towel scrap, and a checked shirt, set on point, from a stash scrap. I did tiny little french knots for his side hair, and a comb over, he is thinning on top. His mustache and beard are white embroidery thread, and I toned his mouth down a bit later by adding more mustache. He is still in shock and was left holding the picket pin rope. It all happened so fast, he hasn't had time to properly react, tho he is letting out a yell! His wife, son, and daughter in-law, had left him in the care of the grand-kids for just two minutes, and this happened! He knows he will be in for it! Maybe he should get on the stick and run for the barn too?! I think if he had, had both his hands on things, it might not have gotten so out of hand. 

This is a lesson to all for all of us, and brings to mind one of the times my father in-law,"took charge" of my youngest son. He was still just a toddler, but his grandpa wanted to take him out to the barn to show him the horses. I wasn't sure about it, but thought since he will probably be carrying him, what could happen?! There was snow on the ground about a foot or so deep and I thought surely he will carry him or leave him outside the paddock. I was wrong! It hadn't been that long, when my father in-law came bursting back into the house, carrying my youngest and looking like death! He began to tell us what had happened, as I peeled the muddy coat off my son to see if he was injured, and if so how badly. Seems grandpa had decided it was fine to take my toddler into the horse's paddock while he fed them some apples. My son didn't know a thing about horses. He walked right up to the back of one and before grandpa could do anything, it kicked out hard. It caught my son, who was by then standing right next to its back leg, and flung him across the paddock into the piles of shoveled snow. I think an angel of God protected my little boy at that moment. Because my son was mere inches from its hind leg, its entire leg just lifted him up along his torso and flung him. Aside from the mud where the horses leg hit his jacket, you wouldn't have known he had been kicked. I searched him over and he was not hurt at all. In fact he wasn't even crying. Grandpa was sure he was badly injured, but the extra padding of his winter coat and clothes, his close proximity to the horses leg when it kicked, and the snowbank he landed in, all worked to break his fall and keep him from injury. Needless to say, grandpa never took my son into the horses paddock again. My son still went out to help feed them with his beloved grandpa, but his grandpa had learned a very hard lesson. Never trust untrained toddlers around untrained horses. I think my father in-law came closer to dying that day than my son, for he was ashen white and looked like he had, had a heart attack. 

Here is the last picture for today. That poor grandpa and grandson. This is one of those possible farm accidents, that are never a happy one. To put your minds at ease tho, I do believe the horse ran right into the barn, and the kid, having good sense, just held on until the horse stopped by the haystack, and then peeled off into it like a sack of potatoes. Do you think Gramp's is going to get an earful from his wife and daughter in-law when they get there? I'll just bet he does! 

One thing about a farm there is always something a doing. If it isn't the goats getting up to mischief, its the hens getting out, or the cow wandering off into the woods, or the sheep twins getting lost from their mother and then bleating their little heads off, until she comes and gets them. Farm life can be interesting that's for sure.

I hope you all have a God Blessed Day! I'll see you again soon with episode 6.

P.S. Don't know why I was feeling so chatty, but this quilt sure seems to bring back lots of memories.