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I'm glad my mother typed a note to go with these old photos of us riding together. We often went to Mr. Suprenand's farm in the Ferncroft area and enjoyed their animals:
- goats
- ponies: "Mitzi" and "Peanuts"
- a horse for my mother to ride
- chickens
I have many memories of our times there, but wouldn't have known how to spell the name of the owner. Don't recall ever seeing the name written (except on this label).
My mother, a horse-lover without a horse in those years, had some arrangement with Mr. Suprenand for frequent access to exercise a horse. Often she brought us along to ride his Shetland ponies. We'd go off into woods and fields of nearby properties, having various adventures as we learned to ride and to cope with the antics of the ponies.
I remember riding Mitzi in a large flat field somewhere, perhaps on Essex Aggie land. We were galloping along at a good clip. My braids were probably flying behind my head. Exciting fun! But when Mitzi shied sideways suddenly, I was left airborne without a pony! I recall flipping, head over heels, onto the ground, landing on my back with my braids in water. It all happened so very fast! I had not seen the wet patch ahead, but we think Mitzi was spooked by a flash of sun reflecting off that water. I was wearing a leather jacket, which made a resounding slap on the water surface as I landed. My sister laughed, especially when I stood up, dripping wet. My mother probably managed to catch Mitzi so I could climb on and finish the ride.
Mommy liked to make comments as we rode along, sometimes mentioning a bit of local history. One day she pointed to the remnants of an old foundation, barely visible in the woods. She said that's where someone in our Nichols family had lived. "Had HAD to live," she emphasized, "this far out from town because he had married a Quaker!" (I was puzzled, thinking what's wrong with marrying a Quaker? But I never really discussed this with my mother, nor do I know the names of those long-ago people or recall the location of their home.)
I wonder now about my mother's wording on the label: "Suprenand's (site of Nichols homestead, later Ferncroft Inn)." Did she think that the Suprenand property had once belonged to a Nichols relative? Perhaps even the same one who had married the Quaker? (But many I'm confusing two different stories? As best I can recall, the old foundation fragments were somewhere else in the woods, not right near the Suprenand home.)
Sometimes Mommy needed to discipline us (or teach us lessons to improve our riding) and sometime she disciplined a misbehaving pony. I definitely remember the day Mitzi needed discipline. We were returning from a ride in the woods and I was riding Mitzi, as usual. Suddenly Mitzi began running, and ran very fast all the way back to the barn. I couldn't stop her or even slow her down. I was terrified when she ran directly towards the barn doorway because I could see the metal chain across that opening. Would that stop her? No! She lowered her head under the chain and kept going. The chain hit me in the belly and scraped me right off onto the ground! I wasn't really hurt, but my mother knew that Mitzi needed a lesson. She brought Mitzi out from the barn, climbed on her back, and rode Mitzi around and around in yard near the barn. My mother's adult legs almost reached the ground as that short pony labored under her load. Mitzi's head was held low, as if ashamed of her bad behavior. We never again had trouble with Mitzi misbehaving.
Around the barn yard we enjoyed watching other animals, especially very cute baby goats!
The chickens I remember less fondly. That's probably because of my reckless running and sudden fall from a slippery ramp of a chicken hutch. Oops. That foolishness brought me, with injured nose, to a big hospital, where a nice nurse offered her hand, saying I could squeeze if the pain became too much. I didn't need to squeeze; my nose was quickly repaired. I have a flat spot on my nose as a small souvenir.
One summer a different arrangement was made with Mr. Suprenand regarding Mitzi and Peanuts. My mother invited those ponies to come to our place (actually, to the large fenced pasture at Locust Lawn, across the street from our home). I think it was because Mitzi was pregnant, so we weren't allowed to ride her, and the LL pasture could provide plenty of good grass for grazing. (The Suprenand farm was on a rather bare ridge, lacking topsoil.) We enjoyed having the ponies nearby. Later I became very fond of the young foal, named Champion, and sometimes lay next to him in the grass. His hair was SO soft, and very warm in the sunshine. Fond memories.