Memoirs: How A Horse Girl Afforded Riding Lessons, Part 3

Part 1
Part 2

Ironically, I found my first real job and met my first real boss while dressed in my riding clothes.  With lifeguarding a non-option, I had already interviewed for a retail position, but I was less than excited about being stuck indoors all summer.  While visiting a local farmer's market with my Mom, I decided to ask for an application for employment.  I stood in front of my future boss, politely inquiring about the papers, dressed in a t-shirt, breeches and half-chaps.  I remember that there was a long line at the register and she was quickly looking up at me and back at the customers and register.  She must have sized me up pretty quickly.  She was looking for someone willing to work on a farm and I just happened to be a self-made farm girl.  The market was within walking distance of my house, so this could become an ideal situation.  Just like that, she asked if I could start on Tuesday, and so began six glorious years of working outdoors, preparing fruit platters, and melon boats, running endless lines of customers during strawberry and pumpkin season, and working for two of my all time favorite bosses.  I learned how to drive a box truck and a tractor.  I learned how to order and stock the market, maintain produce quality, and endear customers.  I learned the value of the dollar.  I wrangled baby chicks and fed bottles to the baby calf in our petting zoo.   By the time I "retired", I could pick the ripest melon at ten paces and describe the flavor and use of every apple.

My bosses were generous people who rewarded hard work, so after the first summer of working part-time, I picked up 40 hours a week and worked every holiday and pick-your-own weekend from open to close.  On my days off, I cleaned stalls at my barn, which allotted me extra practice time in the saddle.  And if the owners ever needed a vacation, I was the go-to girl for horse-sitting.  My "May to Halloween" seasonal job afforded me weekly lessons, some horse shows, riding clothes and boots, an old car to travel to and from college (and the barn!), and eventually the lease of a lovely mare.  In college, I picked up campus jobs to balance the financial burden of books and food, so that I could still ride on the weekends.  All this and I managed to save for family birthday and holiday gifts.  I was dependent upon my parents for major expenses (like college!) and they took care of my clothing and food, but I am proud to say that I kissed riding off-seasons good-bye the year that I started working at the farmer's market.

How did I do it?  I worked hard on my work days, I worked hard on my days off, and I rode somewhere in between.  I did not spend my money on fashion or fads, but I did always keep my goal in mind.  I wanted to further my education as a rider and I knew that the only way to do that was to ride.

Although it was years after leaving, I actually purchased Harley with savings from my farmer's market job, as well as his first saddle.  Sure I had a "real" job by then, but I always considered my savings from those long, fruit and vegetable-filled summers to be reserved for my life with horses.

Memoirs: How A Horse Girl Afforded Riding Lessons, Part 2

Part 1

I wasted no time as the signing date for my working papers grew near.  With practicality my motivator, I scoured the employment options for a young teen entering the work force.  My friend's older sister was a lifeguard and I learned that I could make seven dollars per hour working at the local pool.  No other part-time job could compete with that pay rate and few companies would hire someone so young, so I signed up for lifeguard training.  This tapped into my savings, which I carefully managed from allowances, birthdays, and the occasional babysitting job, but I could see the future and I knew that I would quickly make back the certification fees.  With careful budgeting, I would be able to say "Good-Bye" to off seasons and "Hello" to riding lessons all year long!

Several weeks later, I completed the American Red Cross Lifeguard training, passed all the tests, and became a certified lifeguard at age fourteen.  The age cutoff has since been raised to fifteen, and looking back I cannot believe that I was able to complete some of those tests.  I retrieved a ten pound weight from the bottom of the diving tank and held it at chin-level while treading water for at least one minute.  I swam more laps than I ever had before or since and many of them were with a "victim" in tow.  Knowing that my slight frame had to be strong enough to save a swimmer in distress, the evaluators certainly did not go easy on me.  For the final test, I had to tow an "active" victim the length of an Olympic-size swimming pool with the lane ropes removed.  My "victim" was a six-foot tall, male lifeguard and he thrashed and rolled like crazy to try and dislodge my hold as I pulled him across the lanes.  Little did he know, I had the dreams of affording my saddle time and years of following the movement of a 1000 pound animal on my side.  I held on to that "victim" like my life depended upon it and finished the final trial victorious!  It was a very proud day.

But...
...I never became employed as a lifeguard.  Shortly after earning my certification, I inquired about working at the local pool and learned of their strict employment rules.  I had to work everyday during the summer season from 4 pm until 8 pm.  All the new lifeguards had to work this shift and you were not granted days off or vacation weeks if your family was going away.  Being only fourteen, I did not have a driver's license and my parents were not willing to commit to such a relentless chauffeur schedule.  So my dream of financing yearlong riding lessons was postponed until the next summer when I would be fifteen and eligible for more opportunities.

I was disappointed, but not ready to give up.  A year later, I would have my success.

To be continued...

Part 3

Memoirs: How A Horse Girl Afforded Riding Lessons, Part 1

I mentioned in the Mother's Day post that my Mom was responsible for getting the riding-lesson-ball rolling when I was seven years old.  I started off with private lessons on a darling Shetland named Blondie.  Blondie was the kind of pony that all Moms wanted their children to ride.  Some Moms literally argued over whose turn it was to ride the little mare!  She was small.  She was sweet.  She was slow.  But there was one thing wrong with Blondie.  She was a walking allergen.  I do not remember the allergy attacks that apparently paralleled my initial career as a youth rider.  My Mother insists that she had to throw me in the tub and give me Benadryl, because my eyes were so puffy that I could barely open them and my brains were hastefully exiting out my nose.  I am sure that I was smiling blindly through all the mucus and sneezing, dreaming only of my next ride on Blondie.

So the allergies prompted my parents to come up with a means to save their daughter from her new found joy.  In hindsight, I know that the allergies and the financial burden of weekly riding lessons were really to blame, but my Dad offered a clever explanation.  He told me that all sports have an off-season.  Players train and compete for part of the year, and rest (and vacation?) for the remainder.  From then on, I was to have an off-season.  In fact, I was so lucky that I had two!  My off-season was divided between two parts of the year: winter and summer.  This also worked well for Mom, because she did not have to travel in the extremes of either season, although I was not above begging for the occasional mid-off-season ride.  I am very grateful to my parents for funding my initial years of riding lessons.  I know that riding lessons cost a lot of money when compared to piano lessons or the community soccer team, but you cannot help what you love.  Thank goodness my parents cared enough to make it happen for me, even if I was basically a fair-weather rider.  Despite my gratitude, I still resented the off-season, and as my eligibility for something called "working papers" approached, I devised a plan to take my off-seasons off the schedule.

To be continued...

Part 2