The Dumpster Folkhorse

Circa '92, my husby came home with a broken Wonder Horse. He knew it was the best present he could have given and he found it at the dumpster. You see, I have this affection for inanimate objects and as Gwen said, "You can't stand the killing of furniture." The handles were missing but I was able to thread a long wooden spoon through the holes. Ellen said Goop would secure it and so it did. Then began the decorating: beads, a straw hat with a sunflower, fat ribbons, glitter, ivy garlands, and necklace strands transformed the prancing pony with a loveliness she had never known. Children made her their destination. Eventually, when the springs became unsafe, I freed her from her cage prison and propped her up to become a piece of Folk Art. Years later, I printed a photo of her on what Randy/Joel called a "defective" printer. Why defective? The printer was supposed to print in black and white but a big yellow splotch appeared ON THE SUNFLOWER. I felt it was a miracle and a sign of sunny days ahead. When I looked for a design for my memoir, I thought of her and fiddled on Photo Shop to make the just right "cover." She had become a symbol. She incorporated my favorites--stars, Native American tales, found treasure, botanicals, trust, and love. When it came to creating a profile pic, I couldn't think of anything more like Moi. She had my aura to a T. I called her the Folkhorse and when I left Roanoke, I gave her to a Jennifer, a reader of books anyone would love to borrow (and I did),to ride from the ceiling beams of a delightful house. For the dedication of this never-to-be-gotten-around-to-autobiography, I wrote: to the Keeper of the Universe who, like a gentle breeze, sets the merry-go-round in motion.
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....may your days be filled with the music of the painted ponies and the light of sunflowers...