As we age, horsemanship can involve facing fear after illness or injury. It's about honouring old dreams and being open to new realities. My mantra is living well and riding better. Hi, I'm Lee... I invite you to saddle up and ride!
I’ve long been an advocate for writing it all down. Learning comes to us in different ways but for most of us, hearing and seeing, then doing… all become a part of our thinking when we actually put it into words. I’ve kept my riding journals since the age of eight. They are among …
On again, off again, I’ve ridden sidesaddle since the age of eight. If I’m completely honest, there have been a lot of ‘off agains’. Once the novelty wore away – many moons ago – I just preferred riding astride. Yet for over four decades, much time and many dollars have been spent learning, riding, perfecting …
Last week, we went for a ride down memory lane. I blew the dust off my forty-year-old riding journals and have been reading, remembering, soaking it all in, ever since. Join me for a few lessons from my late riding mentor, E.M. Boerschmann… and be prepared to change how you ride. April 20, 1980. …
In my hands is an old-fashioned black notebook, hardbound and very businesslike. It is the first of my riding diaries… part homework… part punishment… part work of reference… and while it is now beloved, I detested this book as a girl. For as long as I can remember being able to read, I have …
Horse health has come a long way, even since my childhood. This got me thinking about some of the old ways, versus the new. How some were good, commonsense practices while others, not so much. Not all that long ago, horses were considered workers, essential to a family’s livelihood. Their good health was necessary, …
Last week, we talked about the nuts ‘n’ bolts of riding sidesaddle… what the art represents… how to find a correct saddle… what makes a good sidesaddle horse? This time, we’ve got our saddle, our trusty steed and our boots are on. We’re ready to ride. So, I’m riding sidesaddle. Now what? One of …
I began riding sidesaddle because of Mr. Paterson. An elderly man and a good friend of our family’s, he observed my sister and I chuffing around on our ponies with little enthusiasm. We were squarely-built girls with pig-tails, ragged fingernails and filthy jeans. Worse, Mr. Paterson was concerned about the practice of letting us ride …