Madison County Kentucky

Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 396 Kentucky Scenery Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 347 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 337 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 321 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 320 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 319 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 316 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 304 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 277 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 251 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 245 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 237 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 222 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 220 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 174 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 148 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 142 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 137 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 136 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 135 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 134 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 127 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 103 Downtown to RedLick, Estill Panola and Kingston 101

 Madison County Scenes

Madison County Scenes

Advertisements

A Cattle Trough Sled

 

By: Darlene G. Snyder

Look for my photo book on Amazon

 follow me on Twitter

Darlene Snyder's Facebook profile

 Order my book – Casting Bread Upon the Water

All this snow and talk of snow reminds me of sledding. If you check the archives of this blog, February 08, I believe, you will find some of my childhood sledding memories.

Today though, I want to share about a sledding experience I had as a young adult.

In 1989 or early 1990, we received a lot of snow. School was out and most of our family was off work because of the snow/ice covered roads. My husband worked for the road department at the time and was working sixteen-hour shifts.

My brother-in-law, who lived on a large farm at the time, had to feed cattle. While he was out, he got the idea of pulling a feed trough with the tractor –using the trough as a sled. He called all of us and invited us to come to the farm for an afternoon of sledding.

We put enough clothes, socks and long warm underwear on that we wouldn’t freeze. We met at his house, loaded in his big four-wheel drive truck and headed to the backfields.

I’d dare not guess how many times all of us, except my brother-in-law, who was driving the truck, piled into the long narrow trough and held on tight as he pulled us around the farm. It was a total blast!

I think I would be to much of a chicken at my current age to participate in such a scheme as the trough sled, but it sure was a fun time.

Talking Horse

Blurred Vision

I named this horse Blurred Vision because I was on the motorcyle when I snapped the picture.  He isn’t my horse, we were just passing by when I saw him. I like how the leaves on the tree are blurred and the colors blend together. 

The picture was taken last fall. We were on one of the Kentucky backroads when I saw this horse. Sometimes when we ride in the Lexington area, I find the beautiful homes where the horses actually live to be unbelievable. The horse barns are nicer than most houses in Kentucky. 

The horse farms are also a sight to behold.  Most have wooden fences painted white or black that surround the farm.  There are flowers, trees and ponds that look more like small lakes and of course the beautiful beasts in the fields. Some areas have one horse farm right after another and it is difficult to tell where one farm ends and another begins. The mansions the owners live in are nothing to sneeze at either.

While those farms house mostly race horses and horses that will sell for more money than I’ll see in a lifetime, the horses I love are those that you’d find on a typical farm with a stinky black barn where many different animals have lived.

As a teenager, I lived on a farm.  We had a horse named Star; he was a big sorrel work horse. My dad used him somtimes to plow tobacco fields.  I loved riding the horse.  I’d get one of my brothers to put a bridle and saddle on him for me.  I was always too finicky to touch the slobbering mouth to put the bridle on and too scared to put the saddle on the sweaty beast, but I loved riding him.  Actually, I wasn’t to scared to climb on, kick him in the sides and yell “yah!” really loud to get him to take off running. 

I’ve always been a little frightened around most farm animals.  I recall dad taking mom, my brother, sister and me to my grandparents farm and into the barn where he’d feed and milk the cows. He’d take turns putting my sister and brother on the back of the milk cows that were in stalls and unable to move.  When it came my turn, I kicked and screamed because I didn’t want to sit on or touch the milk cows. Dad sat me on one once and I remember the skanky sweaty smell to this day.  I yelled and screamed until he took me off the animal.

A few years after Mike and I married, we bought me an Appaloosa Gilding named Chico.  I loved riding the horse and he was so gentle that I could ride right up to Mike while he was sitting on a loud running tractor that would have scared most horses. Once when we were on a trail ride, I spotted an wide open field which I promptly rode over to and pushed Chico into a run.  Mike didn’t know I’d purposely ran the horse and he thought Chico was running wild until he saw me pulling on the reigns to slow the horse to a trot.

There is just something about me loving the feel of the wind blowing in my hair whether it is from riding a horse or on the back of a motorcycle.  If Mike’s hands don’t get well soon, I’m buying a horse.