Tag Archive | youth

Young Again

By Diana Wanamaker

You know what I miss?! I miss sexy, I miss my youth. I miss youthful eyes, short skirts, low cut dresses, high heels and lacy underclothes. Long hot kisses on a warm summer’s night, whistle’s and head’s turned, flirting, young- hot -tan men’s bodies in white cotton shirts and levi’s jeans and boots. I miss companionship and being in the game. Feeling good and looking beautiful. I miss being loved. I miss being hugged. I miss laughing with a partner and waking up next to him. I miss having a tan body, spending afternoon’s with my friends sun bathing on the beach and spending the evening going out dancing. I miss just packing up and traveling across the states. I miss vacations and flying some warm place in the winter. I miss the harbors, fine restaurants on the peers and skiing in the winter. I miss enjoying life!
It’s all changed so much, and time to time, I just enjoy thinking back and reliving the times of my youth! I can’t say I missed too many opportunities at all. I lived life to the fullest and there is a certain appeal to it, even today. It seems life anymore is all about surviving and struggling to get ahead or stay afloat. There is not much time for spontaneous fun outside of making a living and pursuing matters of the heart.
So, a few moments of visiting to the carefree days of my youth offers a short restitution to a different life today. Enjoyment and fun is measured in different ways today and at least I can say I have few regrets, for there are few things I didn’t take the moments of my youth to experience! From A to Z and back again, I did it! And I hope to one day capture some adventure again…….

Copyright March 1, 2015. All Rights Reserved

Don’t Burn the Jiffy Pop!

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Photo: Here’s the Clan at the Farm (from left to right):

Mousy (cat sitting on fence post), Penny Arcade (also known as Arc. my horse. the bay), Randy (pony in middle), Dave (holding Randy), Louie (the dog), Skipper (big, red TW), Carol (holding Skipper), Herkamore (black cat Carol’s holding).

Copyright 1974. All Rights Reserved

By Diana Wanamaker

I remember long, long days at the barn with our horses. We would be there early in the morning. Tacking up and heading out for the day that would literally consist of 12-24 hours. Squeezing as much out of daylight as we could…but wait, that didn’t stop us either. Many a night we came home single file in the dark. Continuing our riding adventures camped out on the 10 acres of land.

Back then the acres of farm land surrounded us for miles and miles.  We had our pick of places to ride without much complaint from anyone.  Each area had a designated name and each area offered a different riding adventure.  The rolling hills & meadows of Haunted Hill Valley to the dessert like terrain of Devil’s Mountain to the swimming holes of Paint Creek, there was no adventure untouchable.

Playing tag around the sand filled hills of Devils Mountain for hours on end. Switching horses. Running up and down sand hills, bareback, carved by mountian bikers. No hill was too steep, no run too daring.  Riding into nearby neighborhoods, stopping at my riding buddies parent’s home. Tying the horses up, going in for lunch, then back out to more adventures on the trails.  No matter the weather, no matter the time of year, we stopped at nothing to go riding.

Campfire’s out in empty fields, for winter riding, to warm up our toes, and cooked Jiffy Pop over the campfire. We also made manure rings in the pasture, for winter and those shorter days. We also would use the house spotlight to ride on those darker, cooler nights. Chasing the occassional hot air ballon to be there when they landed. Riding underneath the Railroad Bridge, riding into town and riding to parks.  It was all about the riding then and those horses took us far and wide across many miles over the years.

Days seemed so much simpler then, people were more trusting, there was more freedom, more space, less people and more farms, more generousity and kindness, more genuine friendships, fun and laughter. Everything just seemed so much easier and less complex when thinking back of all the memories without computers. Different world today, it’s ever changing atmosphere often leaves me to travel back in time when the only care in the world I carried, was to see my horse and make sure the Jiffy Pop didn’t burn.

Here’s to the memories of my younger years of riding and it’s propelling movement to share them hear today for the world to see. Again they live!

Copyright March 2103. All Rights Reserved