I am a sucker for a vintage mold. Often they can be purchased for much less than they originally sold for because newer molds are generally more popular and sought after. I keep my eyes open on several online sales sites to see if anything that I don't already have comes up for sale, and if it is in good condition and for a good price, I will take a second look and maybe even buy the piece.
The Thoroughbred Mare and Nursing Foal are not sought after molds but I think there is a serenity about them that is very appealing. So, when I saw this pair up for sale, I bid on them.
The set was a JC Penney Holiday special run in 1996 called "Pride and Joy."
They came in their original box and are absolutely rub free. I think they may have been kept in that box all these years as the original packing material was still in there with them.
The date is stamped on the box flap.
I assume this person checked the models before packing them. He did a good job - I cannot find a flaw on them. Normally I don't name a model unless I am going to be showing it. But I made an exception for these two.
How could I not name them Sultanna and Little Feller?
Note: The last couple of posts were pre-written and scheduled to post while I was in the hospital having my surgery. This is the last of them. I am home now and recovering. Daily posting should resume tomorrow or the next day depending on how I am feeling. And I can't wait to go see Abby again! For several years I have seen this tall tree in the woods off the road that I travel to get to the barn. I've wondered what those objects could be that are in its branches.
It's about a quarter mile off the road, and so this close up from my cell phone is blurry, but you can still see something odd about the tree. Earlier this spring, and knowing that we love birds, Tim invited Craig and me to come walk through the woods behind his home to see a Great Blue Heron rookery that was located in the trees. I put two and two together and realized that that rookery is what I had been seeing from the road.
What an opportunity! Great Blue Herons are my favorite bird, and I knew that they nested in colonies, but I had no idea that there was a colony so close to my home. Craig and I jumped at the chance and met Tim and Loni for a hike back through the woods.
Craig, Tim, and Loni.
It was quite a journey through the woods and then alongside a creek. The ground was very uneven, but the rough hike was worth the sight of those birds. It turned out that there was more than one tree in the rookery. This was the first tree that we encountered. I count four or five nests in it.
The main tree is the one I had been watching from the road. If you look closely, you can see some adults perched next to their nests. We could occasionally see chicks poking their heads up out of the nests, especially when an adult arrived with food.
The adults were constantly flying in with food and then leaving to go get more. A constant chatter from the birds could be heard the entire time we observed them.
Loni and me.
Tim at the far end of the meadow looking at the last tree with nests. All in all, I counted four trees with 30 plus nests scattered throughout them. My guess is that there are more; we just could not see them all from our vantage point.
I've done some more shopping and am happy to add to my collection a piece done on the vintage Belgian mold and another early Stone model.
I purchased Toby - Vaulting Horse, produced in 1997, and with 3900/5000 written on his belly. I am going to keep him in his box for now.
Then I added this very early Stone Morgan, FTR Golden Victory. He was made in 1998 as a Stone Country Horse Fair special run. Only 325 were made. He is my tenth Stone and came in his original box complete with the special run flyer and an early Stone catalogue.
Despite being home bound by the pandemic, I have been able to acquire some nice new models since March when everything closed down. Still, I am looking forward to being able to go out and shop in person. Hopefully, that will be soon.
Not only am I hustling around preparing for my surgery, I am also prepping for the live show/pony party I hold in my home for my friends every year. Way back in January, I began working on this year's Happy Trails show, and with it being my 50th anniversary in the hobby, I had a bunch of extra things planned to celebrate that milestone. Enter the pandemic and I had to cancel the live show. I still wanted to do something to celebrate, so I set up a free photo show and invited the people who usually come to participate in that instead.
Like always, Happy Trails is free. I've got swag and some other surprises for those who enter, including a pony pouch. Tucked inside that will be their ribbons and swag.
Since my surgery is coming up soon, I am trying to work ahead and get as much done as I can. Today I put swag into the bags and checked to be sure the ribbons were sorted and ready. I've gotten everything done that I can; now I just have to judge the show, write up the results, sort out awards, and mail everything off. Sounds simple, right? Well, my surgery is now scheduled before the photo show date, and I know from experience that post op I move pretty slowly for a few weeks. But I will get it done, and judging will be a nice, quiet activity while I recuperate.
Note: This is a non horsey post. Hooray!! I've heard from my surgeon down in Indianapolis and the surgery that was scheduled for March and postponed due to the pandemic has been rescheduled! (I developed an incisional hernia after the pancreatic surgery that I had last August.)
Me with my big bump.
The hernia has been getting bigger and bigger. When I found it in January, it was about 4 inches long and 3 inches wide. Now? It measures about 5 inches long and 7 inches wide. Because it is so large, they will not be able to repair it laparoscopically. It is going to be a complicated surgery involving three incisions and then several days in the hospital to recover. Craig will stay at the hospital until I am out of surgery and in recovery. He will then be able to see me briefly but after that he has to leave and can't return until I am dismissed. I'm sad about that, but I also understand the reason behind it. We plan to FaceTime frequently.
I'm starting my prep now, walking every day, drinking the Immunonutrition drink they prescribed, putting on a special germ killing sanitizer, and using the breathing device a couple of times a day to prevent pneumonia.
I am not in any pain, but it is uncomfortable at times. And while I am not looking forward to more surgery, I am anxious to get this repaired and move forward. I feel relieved and I feel grateful. Finally!
Reposted with the kind permission of Kristian Beverly. I met Kristian at last year's BreyerFest while hanging out in Susan Bensema Young's room in the Clarion.
I found her to be a bright, articulate, book-and-horse lovin' woman. She wrote and published this entry on her own blog, Kristian Beverly. Well said, Kristian, and thank you for letting me share your insightful words here.
A difference of opinion is whether you like glazed or jelly donuts. Not if a person deserves humanity. I want to be horrified that in the year 2020 this needs said, but I’m not the tiny girl in the photo above anymore. Racism hasn’t gone away just because it doesn’t present the same way it did 100 years ago. Racism adapts. For example, schools are more segregated now than they were in the 1960s.
These past days have been hard. My anger and frustration continue to boil because so many people are simplifying centuries long matter into trivial terms like ‘All Lives Matter.’ It has been amazing to see friends be in support, post, and comment–online or offline. This isn’t political; the movement did not just begin.
I used to believe that education would solve racism. When I was small, I thought racist people needed lessons because of lackluster education. Now I realize you can not teach love and acceptance to hardened and ugly hearts. You can have conversations and give information all you want, but minimal information will be retained. As soon as you leave, they go back to their old ways and thoughts. Imagine being so closed minded in the 21st century that you’d rely on hatred and stereotypes to define whole groups of people, especially when we have endless knowledge at the tips of our fingers. Hatred is an ugly illogical thing.
I was 13 or 14 the first time I met another Black person involved with horses. Quinn Massey was the former Police Chief of Harrisburg City and has since passed away from cancer. I learned about horses, but also learned the history of Black cowboys and that there were more like us involved. I remember the first time going to his barn and his surprise that I had no fear of the horses.
My fashion is a mess. I should’ve listened to my sister.
I started collecting model horses before I joined the hobby. Collecting is probably the wrong word since I played with them. This being said, I never had Black dolls to play with my Breyers. I’m so glad there are two now, but there’s yet to be any Black males or any peoples of color.
I have always been the only one or one of the only people who looked like me in a room. But that’s been my experience my whole life:in elementary, middle, high school, college, and even now. It was the same when I’ve attended bookclubs, book signings (minus the time I saw Angie Thomas), Breyerfest, model horse shows, when I began showing horses in college, and when I have sat on community boards. It was so normal to me; I thought it was the norm for every Black person. It took me years to question why. I used to see my silence as a weapon, that if I took up the right amount of space I would educate people. But I was wrong.
Breyerfest 2010
It’s hard for me to comment on racism in the horse world because I’ve always kept to the fringes. I rode different horses and started consistently taking lessons after I got my drivers license. I attended real horse shows and felt eyes on me, but going into spaces where I was the only diversity didn’t feel off. I didn’t compete in the juniors or ride at show barns. I just enjoyed being around any and all horses. Comments made to my mom like ‘Oh your girls don’t do the usual sports’ weren’t all that different from ‘Wow, you don’t sound Black on the phone.’ It took a while for me to question it. I’ve listened to stories of other Black riders and their experiences with racism. These encounters still occur, and it all breaks my heart. The comments and encounters they’ve shared would make me question my place in the equestrian world.
You must be antiracist to want to learn and seek out knowledge. Gaining knowledge by reading books and asking questions will help fill in the gaps. However, listening more than speaking will make the largest impact.
White supremacy and racism have never had a place in our society, but especially not in the 21st century. We have knowledge at the tips of our fingers. There is no excuse to be racist. The excuses of not knowing Black people or whatever frivolous reason don’t gain sympathy from me.
What should be done about the racists? You can’t force someone to want to be antiracist. So for racists, you have to make them begin to feel uncomfortable and question themselves– the same way I questioned if I belonged my whole life. I was not sure if that was being cruel, but I began to realize that I do belong here. I have done nothing wrong; I have always been myself whereas they have taken a standing to hate a certain group. Being racist should not be welcomed with wide arms, no matter how talented the person is. Talent doesn’t negate human decency.
What will I do? I will continue to ride.
I will continue to be a mirror for kids, young adults, and adults in whatever capacity I can. I will continue to listen, read, and expand my knowledge of history and the varied experiences mankind live.
I have loved real horses and this hobby for the vast majority of my life. There’s no stopping me now. Black Lives Matter.
