I AM - Writing Contest Submission
I’m participating in a writing contest at so I need to get this posted before the deadline so I can send them the link . The contest is through Owl Haven They provided a form with blank spaces that I was to fill in, so the format is theirs. I thought it might be fun to participate but didn’t want to disrupt any more on the Arabian twin foals story than I am already. I will also be doing a post on Barbaro soon so that I can participate in the next horse blog carnival which is Feb 7.
I Am
I am the baby born in Seattle on Beacon Hill to an upholsterer who served the Navy in Pearl Harbor and his wartime bride who became pregnant on her wedding night.
Who weighed 9 lbs 3 ounces at birth and came out running, ready to take on the world. Walking at 9 months and talking at 10.
I am the child who played with the boys better than the girls and brought home strays and always rooted for the underdog and played every variation of cowboys and Indians you could ever imagine in the basement using my daddy’s sawhorses for our trusty steeds with pillows from the sofa strapped on top for saddles, the lights turned off and a fire in the fireplace, we could camp with our horses, or save the cattle from rustlers or anything else we could imagine.
Who loved horses and and reading books with my feet stuck into the heat register to keep warm and what else but chocolate.
Who stored daydreams of Arabian horses and princes and princesses and my dead father in the treasure box of my mind because nothing physical would have been safe from my 5 brothers.
Who dreamed of riding an Arabian mare across the clouds of a rainbow washed sky and never thought she would own a horse as beautiful as the ones she had dreamed.
I am the teenager who was sent off to boarding school and lived with a crazy woman for the first year because there was no room in the dorm and then spent the remaining three years trying to live down the rantings of the crazy woman because everyone believed I was the crazy one.
Who wore a school uniform and played pinochle and loved everything about learning especially science projects and math and hated clicky girls, snobby boys, righteous priests and nuns and the unfairness of life.
Who rode home with the friend of the crazy lady and was reported to the police as having run off with the weird ladys’s son and then was grounded for life for something I didn’t do.
Who dreamed of breaking free from the bonds of my abusive family and finding my own place in the sun raising children and Arabian horses and knew she would be someone someday.
I am the woman who has been disowned by my family for getting help and confronting the offenders of childhood, changing my ways, finding myself and freeing my children from the legacy of abuse.
Who loves my husband and children and horses and helping others find a better way to live with each other and their horses.
I am the mother who loves sharing and working with my family and horses and goes crazy if someone talks bad of my family, my friends, or my breed of choice, the Arabian horse.
and whose moments of perfect bliss come when a new foal rests in my arms and the mare knickers that wonderful welcoming knicker of recognition at her new baby.
I am the horse breeder and writer who loves talking and avoids conflict and who wants to be know for my dedication to Arabian horses.
I am the woman who’s definitely a type A (which I used to deny) who’s passionate and meticulous and never quits. Who loves to take on what I’m told I can’t do and do it well.
I am the person who knows the worst that one human being can do to another and yet I still have faith in the humanity of man.
I am the woman who still loves Neil Diamond for the life line he gave me in the form of the song Am, I said and country music, but never hard rock or rap, they stress me out, I’m already wired too tight.
Who still longs to learn all there is to know about horses and riding and cutting cows and spins and slides along with great western pleasure. I want to experience it all.
I am the person who dreams of breeding national champions and grandchildren to ride them and is grateful for a husband who understands.
and who hopes I’ll be able to keep riding and training and breeding these magnificent creatures until the day I die.
~~~~~~~~~~~
This is from the contest:
The final prize is for the person who refers the most people to the Owl Haven blog. Readers please come over to Owl Havenand comment in the regular comments section of the contest post and say “Hi, I’m here from…MiKael's Mania.” Whoever’s name is mentioned most by February 10th gets that third prize!
I love that first nicker to a new foal too.
ReplyDeleteMiKael I can't fathom how to do this out LOL. Is this where I should write the referral?
ReplyDeleteSorry, my instructions weren't great. I've changed them. What you do is go to the Owl Haven and comment on the Contest blog saying you came from MiKael's Mania
ReplyDeleteI don't really expect to win anything because Idon't have my hits up where they need to be yet, but I thought participating would be one more way to get people to my blog, so I gave it a try. But I have to say I feel a little expose, it was like doing a assignment for a therapy group.
I played cowboys and Indians too, and I had the horse dream that came true when I was grown, although not on the same scale as yours. I love when dreams come true.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely - especially the treasure box of your mind...what a beautiful description.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your blog! I was lucky to live a part of my childhood in a rural place where I was able to ride horses. The horses are lucky to have you as their advocate. It sounds like you did well recovering from your abusive childhood, I hope I can do so well myself.
ReplyDeleteBest Wishes :0)
~ Rachel
It's a lovely, honest piece of writing, rainbow. From one Type A to another (blessing or curse I wonder?!) - Good luck with everything X
ReplyDeleteGreat post! I'm sorry I missed out on helping ya with the contest!!
ReplyDelete