This is my mother, with her daddy and pony Mickey. She was a horse lover from day one, and passed that heritage on to all of us. She says Mickey was the best pony a child could ever have, but when an adult got on him, he would buck them off immediately. In high school she had a horse called Old Paint, and kept him until he passed away on the ranch long after she married my dad. She said Old Paint's only flaw was that he loved to race, and if another horse passed him he would buck. My mom must have been some cowgirl! She taught my sisters how to leap on a horse bareback, Indian style. I could never do it, both my legs and confidence level being too short.

My mom was a dreamer in high school. She wrote poems about wild horses and drew fantastic drawings of beautiful girls and their horses. Her dream was to have a horse ranch when she got older. She got her wish, but was often too busy with the housekeeping and children to really enjoy spending time with the horses. She did ride occasionally, especially if we kids were in school and Dad needed her help with moving cattle or getting a sick one in the corral to treat.

Today, my mom lives in a beautiful valley in the mountains. She and dad bought a buckskin quarter horse stallion a few years ago, and are breeding a handful of well-bred mares. My youngest sister, Karmen, still lives at home with them, and she trains and cares for the horses. Here is a photo of one of their foals from last spring.I inherited all of my mother's horse-craziness. I have never been without a horse for very long. When I was about nine, the ache in me from not having a horse of my own was becoming overwhelming. I wrote a silly little note that said something like, "What's the use of living if you ain't got a horse?" I quickly regretted it when Dad and Mom laughed about it and showed it to the neighbor, Francis Wescott, who was drinking coffee with them the next morning. But I got my wish. Dad gave me my pick of the colts, and I chose a two year old buckskin gelding named Sunday in Savannah. He had a blue eye, and we figured he probably couldn't see out of it. That was my first horse, and I started riding him. He was so laid back we never got into a fracas, but his health was poorly, and Dad sold him before long.

I believe most of the richness of my childhood can be attributed to the fact that my parents wanted a large family and produced seven children, of which I am the middle one. I know I would be a different person altogether if I had been born an only child, or first or last. Birth order is such an interesting topic, as we are shaped and made by the influences of those around us at early ages. So I was shaped by my siblings, and helped to shape them as well.

My father's name being Keith and my mother's name Juanna Beth, they named us all with the intials KJ. We were, in order: Kollin James, Kandra Jane, Kellie Jean, Kerrie Joann, Kevin Jesse, Kristopher John, and Karmen Joy. Our ranch brand was the Lazy KJ, which meant that the K and J letters were fallen on their backs, or asleep and "lazy", so to speak.

In my viewpoint, my brother Kollin was the feared and yet adored eldest brother whom no one questioned or intruded into his space. Kandra was the bossy babysitter with a passion for horses and reading, and we wanted to be just like her. Kellie was my accomplice in everything, as we were born close together and were different as night and day. Kevin was my adored little brother who was always in trouble and never lost the ornery gleam in his eye. Kris was the tough little guy who wasn't afraid to stand up to anyone, though he couldn't talk clearly until age five. And Karmen came along seven years later, so she was the beautiful baby of the family, so sweet and sincere even to this day.

Each of my siblings have grown and changed and formed into adults with whom I have good and friendly relationships with. But being spread all over the United States and married with families of their own has given me the feeling that I only really know them through memory's eye. And the way I related to them and felt towards them as a child is the backbone of the bond I feel with them today. I really love my family for what they were to me during childhood, and the feelings I have today for them all stem from the love I had for them when we were children. I was very happy as a child, and the thoughts and memories that I have of growing up around my family are probably my most prized possession.