Chrissy of Chincoteague

 When I was young, unsure of the year really but trying to use my brain to remember, I was allowed to walk to the library annex in Huntington Station all by myself. 

It was kind of a big deal for me. Growing up our neighborhood was rough, and my parents wouldn't let me go far, especially south down 110 anywhere.

I would love getting the newspapers and magazines out and reading them. The library would put the newspaper sections and magazines on these sticks that ran down the center, and hang  them on a rack in kind of a cascade. It seemed so cool to me. This would protect the magazines especially because if they were on a standing rack, they'd bend over at the top right corner and get messed up. 

I was trying to remember what year it was that I'd go, and I clearly remember reading Rolling Stone Magazine, and Jackson Browne being featured. I think he was on the cover but maybe not. There is a picture on the cover of one from 1974 with his baby Ethan, but I would have been 8 and I honestly doubt at 8 my parents would let me walk to the library! Maybe later. I clearly remember a photo of him coming out of a swimming pool, shoulders and head out - and all of California and a beautiful house and big sky  and everything behind him. I think the article talked about the death of his wife, which was in 1976. 

And I would have been almost 10 then. I do remember reading about her, and thinking how horribly sad it was. 

I had kind of a big huge crush on Jackson Browne anyway. But learning about the death of his wife was heartbreaking for me. In the library. At a big table with a magazine with a stick down the center.

So maybe my parents were letting me walk to the library back then. It was about a half mile. No big deal, what could happen, right? 

Hmm. Thinking about what I would let my kids do at age 8 or 9, I super doubt I'd let them walk to the Huntington Station Library at that age. But. Whatever. 

Anyway, back to thinking about the library. 

I very much enjoyed going to the library alone. The librarians were always very sweet and kind, I sure do remember that. I felt like I belonged there, it was time spent in a precious and loving way. 

One of the other things I very clearly remember was a book called Misty of Chincoteague. It is an American classic, written by Marguerite Henry in 1947 and has won many a children's book award, fueling several generations of pony crazy kids. 

I think every young girl read this book, fueling dreams of pony love in their heads. Very much the creation of a Lisa Simpson kind of deal here. Heck, now that I think of it, loving ponies and playing the saxophone, nerd (big fat nerd), dad jokes as a pre-teen, too smart for my own good and not fitting in with the Sherri and Terri kinds of kids... I was kind of a Lisa Simpson prototype. 

Anyway, back to Misty. 

I was a painfully slow reader. There was a learning center at my school where we children who didn't read fast enough would sit in front of kind of a computer monitor screen and watch words scroll across, and read them out loud. The goal was to make the scroll faster and somehow that we'd learn to read faster. For me, the speed of reading was not as important as the understanding of what was being said. I probably had a pretty severe learning disability, language processing or acquisition issue, but I wasn't reading fast enough so here's a machine that'll help the girl read faster. 

I think I took this book out all the time. I read it over and over. I would renew it and keep it longer. A librarian once said to me "you know, other people might want to check this book out of the library and read it too." 

I hadn't thought of that. 

I don't think I checked the book out again. I thing moved on to the sequels, most notably Stormy, Misty's Foal. 

We lived in an apartment complex. There were no ponies near our house that I knew of at the time. But a while later  I would discover the stables where they gave lessons in a local town park in West Hills. I begged for my parents to sign me up. I don't remember going a lot and may have quit after a short period of time. I remember it being very difficult to get up on the horse. I recall I got yelled at a lot because I couldn't. Also, fuck that fancy pants dressage and red coat white pants big black boots bullshit. Learning to "post" whatever that was ... 

I just wanted to ride a horse. Ride it like you ride a horse not like you're in a fancy English Dress competition. 

The hat was pretty cool though. I wish I still had it somewhere but it is long gone. 

So here we are, today. Knowing tomorrow I'm actually going to go to the actual place that actual ponies actually rule the land. Protected ponies that walk the beach and swim in the water. From years ago, to 1947 when Henry wrote her masterpiece, to ... today. 

Kind of cool. 

I know people who plan vacations around books and things, like people who go to PEI for Anne of Green Gables, or Elsinore for Hamlet, or all of England for Shakespeare. We're not doing this intentionally, but we are doing it. We're doing it. Going to Pony Town. 

And I'll be Chrissy of Chincoteague. 

digits 

exercise: dedicated 10+25. Walk in the house. I did 17 minutes when Doug went to pick up Geoff, and then the rest of the 35 while Doug was on his walk, and Geoff volunteered to make dinner. 

blood glucose:
8am: 203
6pm: 163
10pm: 221 (due to forgetting to take my meds 3 hours ago)

food:
coffee, water
10:15: too good yogurt, lemon (actually tasted like a delicious cake filling so it was surprisingly good.
1:30: big salad leftover with 3 grilled chicken strips
6:30pm: chicken breast mexican style (cheese and bacon, spicy breaded)
8pm: 3 wee chocolate chip cookies from the bakery
10pm: metformin+jardiance (forgot to take with/around dinner)
wine