Holding fast to a lifeline...

Hold fast to your dreams,

For if dreams die,

Life is a broken winged bird
That cannot fly.

              -Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Langston Hughes was a beloved African American poet and writer from the Harlem Renaissance to his death in 1967.  I discovered him through the above poem, when I was fourteen.  And I needed him.  I was struggling with what life could hold for someone like me.

My home life as a child was a very unstable one due to alcoholism, violence, and the insecurities my parents had with the dwarfism.  This was many years before the Internet and all they were told about the dwarfism when I was a baby is I would be perfect for the circus.  When as a child all I could see of those like me were The Munchkins, and the actor Michael Dunn, who was well known for his role on Wild Wild West, it is very isolating.  But they were all I had to identify with. 

This didn't stop me from having friends though, or letting my height challenge keep me from doing what everyone else was doing.  I was determined it wouldn't.  However, outside my circle of friends, I had to deal with the insidious constant ridicule and meanness of both kids and adults.  With little help from parents.

Then one day I came across the poem above.  I found all I could on Mr. Hughes whose work became my lifeline.  And in so doing, I learned in great depth the terrible discrimination African Americans had faced and were enduring.  All this coinciding with the events of the Civil Rights movement and demonstrations of the 1950's and 1960's.  I read all I could about all of the lives of African Americans both past and present...and somehow, I felt less alone.  Our challenges were different, and yet, the same.

So in feeling less alone, I held fast to my dreams, and my determination to fly.

Hold fast to your dreams, my dear ones, and soar.🐎

My song...

We all have at least one...maybe more.  Many if you're like me.  I am referring to songs you cherish and have an emotional connection with.

One of my cherished songs is, "I Wanna Be Free," which probably should come as no surprise.  The song, "Born Free," is also very special to me.  

In fact all the songs I treasure most have to do with freedom, finding a place in the sun, not letting go of hope, going down the highway, or loving someone until the 12th Of Never.

The Rover song by Rod McKuen really is one that speaks for me, with the words below.  The ones in brackets are mine:

I have been a rover,

I have walked alone,

Gone a [thousand] highways

Never found a home,

Still and all I'm happy you see,

For [many] times along the way

Love has been good to me.

Yet the song which speaks for me more than any other song ever, climbed the charts in 1969, when I had just turned thirteen.  The first time I heard "Everybody's Talkin,'" I knew it was MY song.  I embraced it.

"Everybody's Talkin'" was written and composed by Fred Neil, and beautifully sung by Harry Nilsson, used in the movie made the same year, "Midnight Cowboy."

The actual words to "Everybody's Talkin'" are:

Everybody's Talkin at me, 

I don't hear a word they're saying, 

Only the echoes of my mind, 

People stop and stare, 

I can't see their faces, 

Only the shadows of their eyes, 

I'm goin' where the sun keeps shinin' 

through the pourin' rain, 

Goin' where the weather suits my clothes, 

Bankin' off the northeast winds, 

Sailin' on the summer breeze, 

I'm skipin' over the ocean like a stone.

In 1969 my thirteen year old self altered the words just a bit though:

Everybody's talkin at me,

I don't WANT to hear the mean words they're sayin,'"

Of their echoes of hurt in my mind,

People keep stopping and staring,

I don't WANT to see their faces,

Yet I see their scorn in my eyes,

I'm galloping to where the sun keeps shinin'

Through the pourin' rain,

Goin' where my horse and I are free,

Bankin' off the northeast winds

Galloping away on the breeze,

Soaring away forever to be free.

I treasure "Everybody's Talkin" in its original lyrics of course and hold it dearly in my heart.  Yet when I encounter the ever worsening ugliness these days when I must leave home, my thirteen year old version comes again pouring into my mind with deep longing from my heart.🎶🐎💕🐎🎶

In all the ways you can...

Do all the good you can,

By all the means you can,

In all the ways you can,

In all the places you can,

At all the times you can,

To all the people you can,

As long as you ever can.

                    ~John Wesley

Eight year olds who conquered...

Arise, go forth and conquer.  ~Tennyson

Never ever underestimate the power of good that eight year olds can do to protect one of their own.

As I touched on in a earlier blog, I have always been blessed with the gift of friends.  Including childhood boyfriends.  By the time we reached third grade, Jordan and I were best friends.  We were serious too.  We often innocently kissed on the lips, and THAT my friends, is very serious.😂

We were always inventing new games the other kids loved, so we had a large circle of friends.  And we would soon need each other to "play a much different game" eight year olds shouldn't have had to "play."

I only ever had one bad teacher...and she was BAD.  Her name was Miss Peebles...and she was old as hell.  And mean.

Miss Peebles apparently did not like children who were different.  And I became her prime target.

The worst, most humiliating thing she did aside from her verbal abuse of me, was to constantly line us up from tallest to shortest for everything...recess, going to lunch, going to the restroom...everything.  So you can guess who was ALWAYS last, right?😢

What is so amazingly touching is how my classmates responded to this, who were aware of what my home situation was like...😱

One day at the merry-go-round, where Richard gathered us all, he said, "Who doesn't like what Peebles is doing to Adelaide?"  Everyone raised their hands.

"Okay, we've gotta to do something."

"But what?" said Debbie.  "We're just kids."

"Yeah, who's gonna to listen to us?" said Saundra.

 Mike asked, "What if she's a witch?"

We all certainly agreed she was something that rhymed with witch.🙄

Then Jordan had an idea... 

"We're gonna tell our parents, and keep telling them till they do something."

"That's right," said Richard.  "Adelaide is our friend and we've gotta help."

WOW...talk about the power of friendship, and a bunch of eight year olds who cared for their friend!😃

And they DID all talk to their parents.  Then those parents began talking to the Principal and even the school board.

Since Miss Peebles was supposed to retire after the school year anyway, she was MADE to "retire" far sooner.  A substitute teacher was brought in, and 

oh, what a difference!

The most important differences?  NOT lining up from tallest to shortest anymore, and no more mean verbal abuse.😃👍

This could have been another very dark memory of my childhood, but it wasn't, you see.  All because my eight year old classmates took a brave stand on my behalf.  

And so THIS is yet another treasure I hold forever in my heart, dear ones.🐎😃🐎💕💫
  

Stepping into the unknown...

When you find yourself with a circle of light surrounding you, and you're faced with stepping into the darkness of the unknown beyond the circle, faith is knowing one of two things are bound to happen...either you will stand upon something solid, or you will suddenly be given the ability to fly.

Cancer and holding on...

When the day is long and the night is yours alone,  

When you've had enough, hang on.
Everybody cries and everybody hurts.
Sometimes everything is wrong.
If you feel like letting go, hold on, hold on.
Take comfort in your friends.
Hold on, hold on.
                     ~From the REM song "Everybody Hurts" 

 

All of us at times, especially these days, have those places in our journeys where we feel deeply the tragedy of life.  Those moments when we can feel utterly overwhelmed by it.🥺

Several years ago, due to some issues I was having, a biopsy was done.  As soon as my doctor received the results, he called me.  

"Adelaide, I'm terribly sorry to have to tell you this...you have advanced uterine cancer and we must perform an emergency hysterectomy."  

"How soon?" I asked.

"Tomorrow morning."😱  

After surgery, my oncologist wanted me to have radiation.  Only much to his horror and frustration he discovered it would be impossible for me.  Due to the severe curvature of my spine pushing my bladder in a higher position than normal, it was right in the "line of fire."  After consulting with other oncologists it was decided the radiation would cause such severe destruction, it had to be ruled out.  

Nor could chemo be done either, due to my severe anemia and hemophilia problems and previous bone marrow treatments.  In other words, we could not do ANYTHING.  

"So we're screwed?"

"Not if I can help it.  I want to make some phone calls first."  

My dear oncologist called everywhere without success, trying so hard to find SOME way to blast any potentially remaining cancer cells into oblivion.  He was NOT happy.  I was coming to the realization my only option would be to literally throw everything into believing we somehow got all the cancer cells out.  To embrace this belief. 

After all, this is the person who willed her toes, feet, legs into walking again, twice, was still living an amazing life, and flying without wings on her horse.  

Yet this still wasn't quite like walking again.  For one 
thing, I was a whole lot older, had endured many more debilitating surgeries and five more spine surgeries too, since learning to walk again both times.  Besides, seeing my legs was one thing.  Cells cannot be seen.  For the first time since my horrendous childhood, I suddenly felt very weary and overwhelmed.🥺  

By then, the severe spinal cord inflammation disease was taking its toll, terribly affecting both my bladder and colon/digestive tract function.  I had already begun having the awful bouts of nausea with it.  Besides being extremely painful too.  And as I have touched on not a thing can be done about this.  It can and is only worsening.  As if that wasn't enough, we were still fighting the blood condition I have.  

Hemingway said, "The world breaks everyone, only some become strong at the broken places."  

And that which doesn't break us, makes us stronger.  

As you may have gathered by now, I have never been one to be broken though.🙂  

We never know how strong we are until we recognize  and embrace our inner divine strength, because it is there however we believe.  Sometimes it takes an inner spark of courage to ignite it to surmount tough, daunting circumstances, but it is there.  I always refer to this as my indomitable spirit.💖

Do you know what else is there?  Friends.  

For you see, I was in a new city where I was working at a small theatre.  And yes, Patches was with me too.  I had already made new friends, as I always do.  At such a time though, I was missing my three dear mentor friends I had known for decades, Nora, Ella, and Joseph.  The three were much older than me and each taught me so much about life.  And taught me what love was.  Through me, they had also become close friends with each other too.

While my dear oncologist was searching what he could do to help me, I had to remain in the hospital.

One afternoon, as I was staring out the window, I thought I was losing it, because it sounded like Nora, Ella, and Joseph were in the hallway.  Suddenly, at that very moment in walked Nora, Ella, and Joseph!  I was never so surprised to see these friends in all our journey!  And thrilled.  They had been on the road for hours just to be there with me.  I had them stay at my apartment.

The three remained for a few days and their presence touched me deeply.  And was exactly what I needed.  Because of our long shared history, we talked and laughed a lot, reminiscing, as one can with longtime friends.  Also, they spoke with all my doctors, which helped them understand everything that could be done was being done.

Within a few years following this visit, all three passed away.  Yet they live on in my heart.  For the love we live in life remains after we have gone.💕

So far no cancerous cells have been found, but my oncologists remain very guarded.  They feel they need to be.  But they also very strongly praise my courage and fighting spirit.

It is said the more we love and are loved in life, the more alive in spirit we are.  And even more why we become strong at the broken places too.  Trust me, I know.🙂

Hold on, hold on, my dear ones.💕🐎

A self discovery journey...

I share this with you, my dear readers, with hope this may be of help to you if needed...especially during such challenging days as we have now, that can make us wonder where we are in our lives...our inner self.  May this be a gift of discovery...

For you see, there are periods in our lives when we may find ourselves wondering who we are and where we're going...trying to understand our inner selves.  And usually our revelations of gaining a deeper understanding of ourselves comes on the wings of facing the greatest challenges we may have.  Like when the realities of our journeys are darkest.

By the time I reached my forties, years had passed since Patches and I had done The Ride.  I had been dealing with the terribly painful spinal cord disease nothing could be done for.  No one knew how much worse it was going to become other than it would become VERY worse.  And though two rounds of bone marrow treatments helped my plummeting blood counts, transfusions were still needed.  Then the first bout of cancer I had involved three surgeries on my left foot due to a cancerous tumor found within.  So I was still having one surgery after another...with many more yet to follow.  My nature though is not to dwell on these things, yet keep embracing the fight of my present, pouring as much enthusiasm into living as possible with gratitude.  And of course I still had Patches too.😃

However I hit a place where I wasn't depressed, but because I continually had to surmount so many tough challenges since I was a young child, I suddenly realized I was tired...and I didn't really know myself.  I hadn't had a chance to.  I knew I was a fighter...full of love, a sense of humor, an artist, horse lover with spunk.  Yet beyond those?

Full self understanding eludes us all no matter who we are...until we reach a place within where we want TO understand our inner selves.

I found my self understanding in my beloved book, "A Touch Of Wonder," by Arthur Gordon, I have often referred to here.  You see, Mr. Gordon had also found himself at this same exact place, only he was REALLY struggling with it, for he was depressed.  One does not have to be severely challenged to feel this way.  Or be a Little Person.

To keep this from getting too long, I will be paraphrasing...

Mr Gordon went to his old small town doctor, and poured out his struggle.  The doctor, a wise perceptive man asked where he was happiest in his life.  For him, it was the beach near them.  At that, the doctor took out his prescription book, wrote out four prescriptions, folded them, and told Mr. Gordon to pack a lunch and go to the beach the next day by 9am.  Then he was to look at one of the scripts every three hours.  [So I went to the beautiful farm where I had Patches with my "A Touch Of Wonder," book in hand.]

The first prescription had the words, "Listen Carefully."  Mr. Gordon climbed a sand dune.  He realized there were tiny sounds below the larger ones, if he listened carefully by sticking his head into the sea grasses.  [So I stuck my head into field grass as Patches chomped on grass nearby.]

Mr. Gordon realized if you truly listen to something outside of yourself, and silence the clamorous voices and noise within, the mind rests.  Then, as he gazed upon the ocean, he began thinking of the immensity of it.  [I lay on my back and gazed up at the vast sky.]  Mr. Gordon realized that by thinking of all the natural things like oceans [and sky] bigger than us, there is a sense of peacefulness to hold onto.  [Like a separate peace.]

At noon Mr. Gordon took out the next prescription, and it said, "Try Reaching Back."  "Back to what?" he wondered at first, then realized it was his past obviously.  Yet because the doctor had Mr. Gordon go to his most "happy place" (the beach), in his life, he realized the doctor meant for him to focus on happy memories.  Positive memories.  So he lay down in the warm sand.  [I laid down near Patches again in the warm field grass.]  By deliberately reaching back holding his happiness places, Mr. Gordon realized little flashes of power...tiny sources of inner strength came forth.  [When I did this, for the first time in my life, I suddenly grabbed hold of all the many special "happiness places and people" interspersed throughout my unhappy childhood I had kept buried with the unhappiness.  Several of which have been shared here.  This was big for me.]  As he remembered, he felt a sudden glow of warmth within.

The next three words were more like a command:  "Examine Your Motives."  At first he felt a bit defensive, saying to himself, "What's wrong with wanting to be a success, or having a certain amount of recognition?"  Then his inner voice he had reawakened spoke, "Maybe those motives alone are not enough."

Suddenly Mr. Gordon realized his writing, and much of his life had lost it's spontaneity.  He realized his sense of giving something, of inspiring people, had been lost at a almost frantic clutch for security.  If one's motives are wrong, we can lose our way.  [I realized how much my life had been spent fighting the challenges of dwarfism, with a very sad and often violent childhood, and then all the many years of never ending physical battles.  My fierce determination to plunge back into life so hard when free from hospitals became my motives to keep rising above the challenges.  I never knew my inner self because I was trying so hard to keep surviving.]

"Examine Your Motives," Mr. Gordon thought, was the hard part of the "treatment."  This challenge
to reappraise, was meant to bring one's motives into alignment with one's inner self and being.  But the mind must first be clear and receptive to do this, thus the quiet self discovery with the first two prescriptions.

Mr. Gordon recognized the powerful therapeutic progression in these words the doctor prescribed, and their value to anyone facing difficulty, or seeking self discovery.  Finally, as he walked across the beach, he read the words on the final prescription:  "Write Your Worries In The Sand."  So kneeling in the sand, he wrote the words, one after another.  [Since I obviously was not at a beach, yet being a typical artist, had brought a sketchbook and pencils with me, I wrote mine down.]  Then Mr. Gordon turned and walked away from the troubles he wrote in the sand, knowing the tide would soon come in and wash them away.  [I tore the page I had written mine on into tiny pieces, then let the wind blow them away.  I found myself.]

The Sanskrit Proverb...

Look well to this day,

For it is life, the very life of life.

In its brief course lies all the realities
and verities of existence...

The bliss of growth,
The splendor of action,
The glory of power.

For yesterday is but a memory,
And tomorrow, a vision.
But today, well lived,
Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And every tomorrow, a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore, to this day.

                             ‐‐‐‐The Sanskrit Proverb

The precise moment...

We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed.  As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over...so in a series of kindnesses, there is at last a drop which makes the heart run over.

                                ~James Boswell

Oakey Doak [doe-ack]...

My horse Bashum, was a lovely paint horse and like all of mine, I loved him dearly.  And Bashum and I happened to acquire a very special friend that hated the color red, who attached himself to us...  

One of my fellow boarders had purchased some goats, and kept them in a pen near the barn.  Only one of them decided HE preferred being with Bashum instead, and kept escaping from the pen just to be with him...until finally he was with Bashum for good.

I had a feeling this would be coming...one day I received a call from John, who owned the goats.

"Adelaide, how are you doing?"

"Hanging in there!  And YOU?"

"I'm doing the same."

Then silence.

"Uh John, what's up?"

"Well...I uh...you see...uh...someone bought my goats...but since I couldn't catch the one attached to Bashum, I decided to give him to YOU.  Besides, EVERYONE is saying it would be SUCH a terrible shame to separate those two anyway..."

So this is how Adelaide became the proud owner of a very obsessed little black goat named Oakey Doak who hated the color red.  To be honest, I had already grown very attached to the little squirt anyway.  Obviously Bashum adored him.  It was so charming to call Bashum when I would arrive at the farm, and see him galloping to me with dear little Oakey Doak coming right behind him as fast as he could.

Oakey Doak went everywhere Bashum and I rode...though off the farm I limited the distances out of concern for the little one.   

Often well meaning people would stop and ask if I knew there was a goat following us.  DUH.

Now goats can sometimes be territorial, and Oakey Doak was no exception.  He would go bonkers if he saw his reflection in a shiny car...which then meant attacking it with his little horns.  None of us at the farm had shiny cars, so I didn't know Oakey Doak had this desire to seriously injure his reflection, until the first time this happened (thankfully without any damage!) to someone's Mercedes which DEFINITELY was not at the farm.  From then on I kept him on a lead rope while riding off farm.  

Remember, if I haven't made this clear yet, Oakey Doak hated the color red.

Sometime after I acquired the little goat, my friend Rory and his horse Ben went riding with us one day on these amazing trails which opened up into this vast park with a huge lake.  It was July 4th.  

Remember that...July 4th.

When Rory and I, our horses, and a goat who hates red arrived at the park where horses were allowed, we encountered a huge group of people having a picnic.  The kids, not used to seeing horses, came running over to us squealing.

LOUDLY squealing.  

This in turn frightened the horses.  I was riding bareback as usual, so when Bashum suddenly leaped sideways in fear, I very heroically managed to stay on...but...BUT...I dropped Oakey Doak's lead rope!  And it's July 4th, when people tend to wear RED, white, and blue!

In extremely quick succession, Oakey Doak saw a massive amount of red and realized he wasn't restrained anymore.  Rory, quickly sizing up the situation, threw me Ben's reins, jumped off, and ran after Oakey Doak.

Thankfully, Oakey Doak was a very small goat, which we had in our favor.  Next, all the kids...especially those dressed in bright red, thought the little goat was playing some kind of fun "goat tag" with them and were loving it!

Finally Rory was able to step on the lead rope as it went flying by at one point and stop Oakey Doak before he could shred lots of red clothing...or worse, gore somebody with his little horns.

As the adults oblivious to all this watched the 

action unfold before them, they were roaring with laughter!  If they only knew!

By the time Oakey Doak's lead rope was safely 

back in my hand, there was thankfully only one casualty...a kid's RED T-shirt was missing a section out of it.  However no one minded, because they said the goat and horses were SO entertaining.  In fact they insisted upon taking pictures of us with everyone!

So somewhere out there may be a photo in an album of two horses, their riders, and a cute little goat with a section of red T-shirt hanging from his mouth, surrounded by a bunch of people...with the ones with red in their clothing having been asked to please stand as far away from that little goat as possible...🐎😃🐎🐐

The Infamous Goldfish Caper...

Sometimes when one is hospitalized for a long period, one can make a friend for a lifetime.  When my blood counts were plunging out of control, my doctors wanted to try a new drug that went into the bone marrow.  So I was admitted to a pediatric cancer ward in my twenties.  

However, there was another young man my age named Michael, who was battling leukemia, like most on the ward, much younger than us.  We immediately bonded and became the "pied pipers" of the ward.  

Years prior to this I had read the beautiful book written by Doris Lund, detailing her amazing son's leukemia battle.  Eric was diagnosed at 17, fought hard, yet died age 22, in 1972.  

One of the things Eric did once while hospitalized for a long while, was to put a live goldfish in what looked to be a glass I.V. bottle...then attach a line which appeared to go in his arm.  When his team of doctors came in, they saw him uncharacteristically hunkered down in bed.  They asked what was wrong.  Eric replied, "I'm feeling very scaly."  That's when the doctors then noticed the goldfish, and loved it.  

So this brings it back to Michael and I...  

When we both weren't desperately ill from the treatments we were getting, we found ways to keep ourselves going, and the whole ward going, with courage and laughter.  Since the ward was kept in sterile conditions we were isolated, so moments of laughter in the midst of hell could go a long way.  

One day I told Michael about Eric, and that was all it took.  We had to try to do what we then called The Goldfish Caper.

Our first priority was to make absolutely sure no goldfish would be harmed in any way.  Since we were confined to the ward, we had to enlist our friends "on the outside" to help.  And it all had to be done secretly.

First, I had a friend get a large glass bowl for the fish, besides a decanter, which resembled a glass I.V. bottle.  I painted numbers on so it would appear real.  Michael was able to get his hands on some I.V. tubing.

Then Michael had a friend get two goldfish and food.  We were ready.  

The next morning we got Michael situated when the doctors came to make their rounds on the ward.  I expressed concern to them that Michael wasn't doing well at all.  They entered his room.  Saw him "miserably" hunkered down in his bed.  Concerned, they asked what was wrong.

"Doctors, I feel very scaly inside," said Michael.

That's when they suddenly caught sight of the goldfish in the I.V. bottle.  I don't think I have ever seen doctors laugh so hard, and then applaud us.  They loved it!  We were immediate heroes of the ward for the kids.  Soon the whole place heard what we did.

I treasure the memory of this, because Michael later lost his fight.  We had talked about death and dying late nights when the ward was quiet.  For at night was the time to stare deeply at our hopes and fears and talk.

This has been another one of those "deeper the sorrow, the more joy" moments of many on my journey, for had I not been so ill with plummeting blood counts, I never would have known Michael.

And never had the "Goldfish Caper."

Oh, and the two goldfish?  

They blissfully lived a long time on the ward.  I later heard the nurses had named them Michael and Adelaide.🐎😃🐎💕💫

On hope...

The definition of hope in Websters Dictionary is:  to cherish a desire with anticipation of wanting something to happen or be true; to desire with an expectation or belief of fulfillment; someone or something on which hope is centered.

As I have touched on in earlier blogs like the famous "Goldfish Caper," I have had to be hospitalized on Pediatric Oncology wards to receive bone marrow treatments for my dangerously plummeting blood counts during my twenties and thirties.  Similar to those receiving bone marrow transplants now, I too, had to be kept in sterile conditions while a new powerful drug went into my bone marrow making me both vulnerable and desperately ill for a time.

Some of the dearest, most treasured friendships I have ever had have been made on Pediatric Oncology wards.  Regardless of ages, the deep bonds of all being in the fight of our lives together and sick as hell, allowed us to embrace each other in precious ways unlike life outside the ward.  For one thing we were isolated.  Yet one would think life in the ward abounded in despair.  But no...quite the opposite you see.  Because life on the ward abounded in hope.  Faith and love too, but I am focusing on hope here today.  And we need it now more than ever.

Due to my age, yet being little like the kids, I could reach them in unique ways.  Since I was also someone who owned and rode horses, who could draw, play the piano and make laughter happen too, I really rated.  But they all loved hearing my horse stories most.  Especially the one when my horse Selah accidentally stepped on my right foot, and they could see the scar imprint of her hoof forever engraved on my foot.  Again and again they would ask for me to tell them this story and show my foot.  And they also loved to hear me tell what it was like to gallop across the fields on my horses, often expressing hope to do the same someday, or when they reached heaven.

Though all most certainly embraced the hope of getting well again, not all did.  There was no way to hide the reality of death on the ward.  Yet the kids embraced their belief of heaven as encouraged to by their parents.  Often their belief in heaven was a very deep and profound one far beyond their years.  The kids talked about heaven a lot.  When I was able to, I was asked to draw a lot of winged horses the children wanted to have for their rooms.  I had shared with them how horses seem to fly when they gallop, and how galloping on my horses felt just like we were flying.  I also told them my hope that when my own time came to go to heaven someday, I would arrive on a flying horse. 

Some say children who have a disease or condition, are angels sent to teach adults a thing or two about having faith and hope.  I believe this.  

Nine year old horse lover Jonny had been fighting leukemia since he was a toddler.  Though many lives are saved now, back then drugs still had a long way to come yet.  While doctors said nothing more could be done for Jonny, his parents kept his hope of getting better burning bright, because he kept telling everyone he was going to get better.  Months earlier his parents promised him a pony if he got well, and Jonny was not about to let go of the hope for his long held dream to come true.

Hope burning bright can sometimes shine forth with a miracle.  I know this, because I wasn't supposed to be able to walk again twice following spine surgeries, but refused to let go of hope.  And both times, I learned to walk again.  Also the new bone marrow drug had been 
so new they were unsure if it would help me.  I embraced the hope it would...and eventually it did.

Another huge miracle of hope that brightly blazed forth?  Against all the odds, Jonny went into remission.  It was an amazing miracle.  And the pony was waiting for him when he got out of the hospital.  Jonny told me he named her Selah, after my horse.🙂💕🐎

Hold onto hope and never let it go, my dear ones.

Inspire...

Aspire to inspire before you expire.

What Sadie "did" to two friends...

THIS is a very funny story NOW, but to me back THEN, I was definitely NOT very amused.🥴

During one of my many long hospital stays, I had asked my dear friends Bob and Tom to visit the farm to check on my pony Sadie.  That was ALL they had to do.  "What could possibly go wrong?" I thought.  But you see, one day things did not quite happen as planned, and they screwed up.  I mean they VERY ROYALLY screwed up.🙄

Since Bob and Tom knew Sadie could pull a cart, they had what THEY thought was a very bright idea one day.  Only I didn't own a cart nor did I like them because I wanted to be ON my horses, not BEHIND them!🐎 However, I did have Sadie's cart harness which came with her.  Unfortunately, the guys knew WHERE the harness was kept.🙃

So they decided to make a two wheel cart.  They were really very proud of themselves too.  In fact, THEY thought what they built was absolutely brilliant.  Truly, 

a VERY fancy state of art pony cart.🤔

Somehow the very inexperienced Bob and Tom managed to get the harness on Sadie, they told me later.  Then they attached it to this brilliant state of art homemade cart the two were so proud of.  And perhaps it really just might have worked too, who knows?🤫  

But you see, ONE of them had the ridiculous bright idea to shake a huge, very LOUD old cowbell one could hear in the next county, to get Sadie moving.😱

Oh, Sadie moved all right.  She absolutely went FLYING!  I heard from other sources after they could quit laughing long enough to tell me, she reached a speed making her capable of reaching the next county in ten seconds!  

Only that didn't happen, you see.  For neither the state of art cart nor the harness survived.  What did remain on Sadie though, got caught around a tree, which not only stopped her but brought my pony to her knees until she could be extracted.  Thankfully SADIE was fine though.😃

However, the cart was NOT fine, ending up in many pieces strewn everywhere.  In fact one of the wheels was never seen again.  And the guys?  AND THE GUYS?!!😳

Since they both knew I would be hearing about this, Bob and Tom decided they had better hurry up and visit me FAST before the news could reach me, to confess.  Uh, that is, once they got out of the emergency room of the exact same hospital I was in upstairs you see.🤫  

So imagine my surprise when Bob and Tom entered my room, with Bob's arm broken in a cast and sling, and Tom hobbling in on crutches due to a VERY sprained ankle.😱

At first I was very upset they both had been injured in some terrible, horrible way...  

And then...AND THEN, they told me, beginning first to quickly assure me Sadie was fine.  Hearing THIS, my compassion level for them suddenly dropped.  

Hearing the rest of what happened, my compassion PLUMMETED.  I mean really REALLY plummeted.  For a few moments I literally wanted to throttle them.  

And they were scared too.  Both admitted later how very grateful they actually were that I was unable to get out of the bed to cause further injury.🥴

Realizing they obviously had suffered enough, and would surely have scars to carry with them, I couldn't help but begin laughing.  And laughing so hard tears were running down my cheeks.🤣  We all three did.  In fact we have laughed about this "brilliant" endeavor of theirs for many years now.😂

Yet one thing was certain though, for you see those two knew better than to try using one of MY horses for ANY of their bright ideas ever again.🐎😂🐎😂🐎

Two brief stories about two amazing horses of mine...

Havilla was the only one of all my horses who never came to me when I called her.  Though I would have to go get Havilla, she never made an attempt to run away from me.  

Havilla, who was black, was extremely close to a beautiful gold palomino horse named Strand and the two were always together.  Yet when I would take Havilla away from Strand they were never upset being separated as some horses become. When done with Havilla, I noticed she would neigh for Strand and wait for him as he came to her.  Then the two would go on their way.

Watching the two one day, I noticed how after Strand came to Havilla, as they left Havilla was constantly touching his rump with her nose.  Then it suddenly hit me, something was wrong with her eyes!  Soon after the vet confirmed it.  After I told him about Strand being her eyes we both marvelled at HOW did they work this out?  HOW did Strand understand she needed him in that way?🐎💫💕

The farm where I boarded some of my horses was 200 acres with only the outer perimeter fenced.  There was a long driveway that wound its way through the property.  If Patches saw my car coming, I wouldn't even have to call him, because he KNEW my car!  He would come running, then follow or trot along side the car until we reached our special place.

Since two other boarders had cars the same color as mine with similar shapes, I asked them if Patches ever followed their cars thinking it was me.  He didn't.  Yet he KNEW exactly which was MY car from a long distance.  Amazing.

The miracle and wonder of horses...but then, I am really very prejudiced, you see.🐎😃🐎💕💫

A bright shining rememberance...

Along the way now and then, I have been blessed with those bright, amazing touch of wonder moments.  Rare moments, which happen out of the blue.

Not long after Patches came into my life, I had yet another spine surgery.  Through no fault of my dear surgeon, everything went wrong.  I suddenly began bleeding out thirteen hours in.  Immediately following eighteen hours of surgery, a huge hematoma formed on my spinal cord and began pressing on it.  I was becoming paralyzed.  My surgeon rushed back in, and it took another three hours to remove the hematoma.  Twenty-one hours in surgery that day!😱

Days later on Christmas Day in ICU, we discovered I still had a tiny bit of movement in a few of my toes.  For all I was worth I focused on my toes until they ALL began moving.  Then my feet...legs.  I had a life I wanted to get back to!🐎😃🐎

The spine surgery was two days before Christmas.  It was Spring when I finally reached the place where I could walk with a cane instead of a walker.  I wondered if Patches would still remember me.  He was only six months old when I "disappeared," and now he was ten months old! 

One bright Sunday friends from the farm offered to take me with them to the farm since I still couldn't drive.  

The farm was busy that day.  I was so touched because many had come out when they heard I was going to be there, and we were all so thrilled to finally see each other again.

I saw Patches way off in the distance high on a hill.  Someone offered to go get him for me.  

"Thank you...first, please wait a moment," I said.  

I cupped my hands and called his name.  Suddenly his head shot up and he began excitedly looking around as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.  I called again and waved my arms.

All of a sudden he loudly neighed and began flying 

down that field.  Then he briefly disappeared into the small grove of trees.  Suddenly Patches burst out the other side at full gallop charging up the hill at the 

same time so excited, he was trying to neigh but 

kept squeaking instead.

EVERYTHING but Patches stopped right where they were, watching.  The hard bitten men were wiping tears from their eyes.  We all realized we were witnessing something very beautiful and magical.  All the horses even stopped and watched.

Patches slammed to a stop a few feet from me, then walked up to me happily rubbing his head up and down me again and again.  Oh my, did he ever remember me!

This...was indeed...one of those amazing...rare, "touch of wonder" gems in life I will hold forever and never let go from my grasp.💫🐎💕🐎💫

I DID IT! (11 July 2020)

My dear readers, I did it!  I finally did it!  As announced and promised about two weeks ago.  

Please...PLEASE know I usually do not say "and...um" as often as in the video?🤣  When I began to do the video, it suddenly hit me the thing is going around the world!  BAM!  A moment of stage fright.😳  This is the person who used to be in demand as a speaker years ago!😂

I should warn you, I am also affectionately teased about my "wild hair," and "lopsided mouth."😂

Yesterday, as I touched on in the video, I had a painful outpatient surgical procedure on my urethra.  I am in a great deal of pain from it, yet was determined to do this for you as promised.  

If you would like me to continue doing a video, perhaps each month or so, I am sure the next will flow easier.  Assuming I haven't lost all of you after seeing me as I am now!😂

I must say this took courage to do in another sense.  Why?  Once this enters Twitter, I run the risk of encountering rude responses from the general public like I/we get constantly, yet I will cross that bridge then if needed.

Since Twitter would only allow an approximately two minute long video, I have had to edit it into three segments. 

Your hopefully positive feedback will mean a lot.

Again, thank all of you so very much for being on this journey with me.😃

Adelaide💕🐎💫

A HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT! (26 June 2020)

My dear readers!  

Sometime in the next two weeks, with Blogspot's video capability, and a LOT of courage on my part, I will be posting a video of me presenting so you may get to actually hear and see me as I am now.  Depending upon your feedback, I will try to do it more often.

I had been hesitant about doing this due to the ravages of my deteriorating health, yet realized you know this anyway.  Recently, when doing a Zoom appointment with one of my doctors who reads this blog too, he wanted to hear my hilarious blog on Southern charm he hadn't read yet, when my friend Danny's brakes went out and we drove five times around the Higgins' driveway loop, waving and smiling to them each of those loops because Danny wanted to save face yet maintain Southern charm.

After my doctor could finally stop laughing, he said, "Adelaide!  You've just got to video yourself for your readers so THEY can get to hear and see you too!  If I were reading your blog, I would LOVE seeing you and hearing what you sound like!  And you could..."

"But I look terrible!  One look and I could lose everyone reading me!"  

"...even play the piano for them on one.  And you could show them more of your art!  You've just got to do this!"

"Let me try again...I LOOK AWFUL!"

"No you DON'T!  They deserve this!"

"Punishment?!!"

"Everyone who meets you falls in love with you.  You can do this.  Dig into that courage of yours."

So I did.  Hopefully I won't lose all of you after I post it.

The other day when I again had a Zoom appointment with this dear doctor, the first thing he inquired about was not my health, but if I had dug into my courage about a video.  Knowing how very ill I have been the past few weeks with this severe urinary infection and intense nausea from the antibiotic and other complications, he certainly understood why I hadn't yet.  However, he was VERY thrilled to hear I WOULD be doing it.

So if you, my dear readers, are repulsed or unhappy when you FINALLY get to see and hear me on video, please blame my doctor for doing this to you.

Again, I will be sharing it with you sometime during the next two weeks, letting you know exactly when it will be posted.

As always, I continue to deeply appreciate all of you being on this journey with me.  You will never know how much this means, dear ones.

Adelaide

READERS...(22 August 2020)🐎😃🐎

My dear Readers, 

Remember the video I dug deep for courage within myself to make for you awhile back?😱

Because the video is about to leave my Twitter timeline, and because there are many more now also galloping along here since I posted it, I shall repost the video, which actually had to be edited to three two minute segments before Twitter allowed me to post it.

I shall first also repost the two announcement messages to you then, for the benefit of those new as well.

Again, I sincerely hope these will be a blessing to all.

And again, please know how very much your Adelaide appreciates each of you.🐎😃🐎💕💫

Adelaide 

Gallop in the right direction...

The great thing in this world is 

not so much where we stand, as 

in what direction we are moving.

                                          
           ~Oliver Wendall Holmes

Seize the day soaring...

Richard Bach, the author of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull," wrote in his wonderful book, "The Gift Of Wings," an experience he had speaking with a man sitting next to him on a long flight.  Mr. Bach asked the man about his life, and for a long time the man spoke enthusiastically about his experiences in WWII.  When Mr. Bach inquired what he had been doing since then, the man, without any enthusiasm, covered in less than a minute thirty years of his life.

I was never expected to live this long, yet with my indomitable spirit I am.  Since I was very young, despite my physical challenges, I have been out there grabbing every moment with enthusiasm and gratitude I could.  Especially on horseback.  Through the years, my dear doctors would have been happier if their patient wasn't off galloping bareback across the fields on her horses, but recognized with as much hospital time I spent, my horses were the reason why I fought so hard TO keep rising above the daunting challenges being faced and why I kept holding onto life so hard.  They made me feel ALIVE.  And they allowed me to soar free.

Henry David Thoreau wrote in his book "Walden," how he went to the woods because, "I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived...I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

This is what I have been trying to do all my life:  "live deep and suck out all the marrow," so I know 

I have LIVED deeply...with all my courage, wonder, awareness, and appreciation.  To know I have fully lived.  And continue to embrace how loved I am.  For you see, all that remains from all we ever are, 

is the love we lived.

Seize the day, my dear ones.  Live fully.  Live courageously...and LIVE LOVE.  Do this for your Adelaide, who will forever soar on her horses with the wind.🐎😃🐎💕💫

One small candle like me...

"There is not enough darkness in all the world that can put out the light of even one small candle."

In my beloved writer Arthur Gordon's book, "A Touch Of Wonder," is the quote above.  He went on to say, the quote was found on a small gravestone after one of the many bombing raids on Britain during early WWII.  Some thought the quote was surely written by someone famous.  But it wasn't.  For it was written by a very sad, lonely elderly woman, whose cherished cat, which was all she had, was killed by a Nazi bomb.

I have always been a star gazer.  One thing I noticed, is how the darker the sky, the brighter the stars shine...that it is the darkness making the light shine brighter.

The ones who have inspired me the most on my challenging journey are those who faced their challenges with such courage their inspiration shined forth.

Many years ago I read the incredibly touching book by Paula D'Arcy, entitled, "Song For Sarah." She and her husband were expecting their second child.  Their first, was Sarah, a toddler.  One Sunday in 1975 when they were traveling home after a visit with family, a drunk driver plowed into their car, seriously injuring Ms. D'Arcy, and killing both Mr. D'Arcy and Sarah.

In one brief shattering moment everything Ms. D'Arcy held dear was gone, except for the child she still carried.  At the time, Ms. D'Arcy was keeping a journal...and she continued, pouring out her anguish, which eventually became her very inspiring "Song For Sarah."

She survived, and her courageous experience is helping many.  Oh, so many.  It helped me...during the daunting challenges of my first spine surgery.  And especially helped me again years later when Aiden died.  Here was someone who knew the darkness of terrible, gut wrenching tragedy, whose journey through it was the very reason she shined so brightly, becoming such a profound gift for others.  These are the kinds of people who are my inspiration.

Yet many say my journey does the same for them.  I hope so.

When life is tough, remember my dear ones, all the darkness of heartbreaking challenges cannot put out the light of a candle...YOUR candle burning bright with hope and courage.

What I learned by age three...

In the late 1980's, a charming inspirational book, "All I Really Need To Know, I Learned In Kindergarten," by Robert Fulghum (who I actually met once at a theatre), came out becoming a #1 Bestseller.  At the beginning he shares a list of things we learn, which I will share below, and then my own special list.  Of course we all can come up with things to add to a list too.

Long before I ever got to the kindergarten age, I had learned a lot.  I learned swear words.  You see my parents fought a lot and partied a lot.  And swore A WHOLE LOT.  

So being the VERY receptive and talented three year old child I was, those words became MY vocabulary too.  How could they not?  I heard them constantly.

My babysitter, Mrs. Cassity, was an older lady I loved, who kept children in her home during the day.  Since swear words were a regular part of my vocabulary, they came out no matter where I was...but never to be mean or anything like that.  If my wooden block tower suddenly fell down, I would calmly say, "Oh f**k, I'll have to do it all again."

Or, if a crayon broke, I would say, "Oh s$$t, my crayon just broke."  And if it was raining, I would say, "D**n, it's raining."  Now and then I would tearfully share with Mrs. Cassity, "My Mommy and Daddy had another BIG f**king fight last night and I couldn't sleep.  Please can't I come live here?"

Thankfully Mrs. Cassity understood I was only repeating the words I lived with and did not punish me, which would have been very confusing for a three year old as to why I was being punished for words I heard all the time.🥴 

She would instead let my father have it when he came to pick me up!🤣

By the time I was four she had gently, lovingly helped me understand the words were not nice words a child should say.  No doubt that dear lady kept me from being kicked out of kindergarten later!😂

Mr. Fulghum said, "All I really need to know about how to live I learned in kindergarten..."

"Share everything.
Play fair.
Clean up your mess.
Don't take things that are not yours.
Say you're sorry if you need to.
Wash your hands.
Flush the toilet.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life...learn some, think some, draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, hold hands, and stay together.
Be aware of wonder.  Remember the little seed in a cup...we are all like that.
And remember the first word you learned...LOOK."

Now here is Adelaide's "version..."😃

Be nice to others.
Horses are good for you.
Play.
And laugh.
Include others.
Don't stare at others.
Remember to be thankful.
Swear words are not nice even if you hear them lots.
Big people fighting is scary.
Finding love is good.
Animals don't care what you look like.
Walk tall even if you're not.
Horses are good for you.
Never lose wonder.
Having aplomb is a good thing.
You're never too old for crayons.
Read books.
Draw.
Smile at others...you will make them happy.
Gaze at the stars above.
Plunge forth and not back.
Have courage.
Love life.
Be kind to all.
Give hugs.
Dance.
Love music.
Horses are good for you.

Serendipity shared...

"Hey Adelaide!  Do you want to go next?!!"

"YESSS!"

We're talking about hanging UPSIDE DOWN by my legs from a rope, swinging WAY out over a very rocky creek ravine.

I had to be crazy hanging UPSIDE DOWN by my legs from a rope, swinging WAY out over a very rocky creek ravine!😱

BUT...I DID.😃👍

Anything my friends did, I did.  Or tried to!🤣

Despite my very challenging childhood, I have never had trouble making friends though.  Even when my parents moved a lot and I had to keep changing schools.  At the age of six when they once again moved to a new city, on my own I immediately went door to door in the new neighborhood introducing myself and asking if there were any kids my age to play with.  Immediately I made a bunch of new friends!😃

As an adult, my horses, cats and I moved to many places where I did not know anyone (some of my cats and horses have been to more places than many humans)!  Yet I was never a stranger for very long because of my work, outgoing ways, and of being a Little Person with a horse.🐎😃🐎

"You own a horse?!!  How do you get ON your horse?!!"😂

I have been so blessed with friends throughout the world.  Even some with as wicked of a sense of humor as mine.  Like renting a used hearse for my 36th birthday?!!  I loved it!  How many people can say they rode in a hearse...ALIVE?!!  We had a blast!  The best moments with friends are those serendipitous ones that just happen.  Shared moments.  Fun moments. 

Yet for me, the absolute best moments ever, are when I often have been blessed to hear how friends totally forget I am a Little Person, and to them, am simply and always Adelaide, their friend.💕

The love we live is what matters most wherever we are, dear ones.

And serendipity.  Sweet, sweet serendipity.🐎💫

To listen...

Webster's Dictionary definition for the word listen is to pay attention to sound such as music, nature, or talk; to hear with thoughtful attention; to give consideration by listening; to be alert to hear.

I learned a powerful quote from "To The Lighthouse" many years ago I strive hard to abide by, both in my spoken words, and the written ones online.  As I have shared, I know deeply the painful effects of words meant to ridicule and be mean all too well, for I encounter them each time I leave my home.  Words whether spoken or written have the power to either hurt, anger, inspire, convey love, laughter, or wonder.  The quote?  To listen more than one speaks is a rare gift.

To listen becomes a rare gift when we become aware and strive TO listen more than we speak.  Or as we "speak" through social media online.

In his amazing, beautiful book, "The Prophet," Kahlil Gibran touches on this subject in the context of talking.  He says when we do not listen we cease to be at peace with our thoughts and we no longer dwell in the needed solitude of our heart.  Then the words from our lips (or fingers) becomes a diversion and a pastime, and in so doing our ability to listen and think are diminished like a caged bird.  We often tend to do this through fear, such as insecurity, and of aloneness because the silence of being alone with our thoughts is so revealing, we speak without listening.

I love the quote about artists...that we dip our brushes deep within ourselves painting our very soul in our paintings.  Most of us cannot create unless we spend a great deal of time in solitude.  So what I call stinking thinking has no place in the needed peace of thoughts within as I paint my soul in my work.  The same with my piano playing.  And writing this blog.

We need to listen deeply.  There is magic when we do.  On a windy day place your head deep into the grass of a field and listen.  You will hear sounds upon sounds.  Or listen to the waves of an ocean.  Nature is full of rhythm.  And if you listen deeply, everything pauses for a moment.  I gave my horse Selah that name because it means peace or pause.  Remember the word Selah.  Speaking of horses, one of the most wonderful sounds I love the best of all are hearing the clippity cloppity of hooves upon the ground.  And the neigh in response to my calling their name.

Now to return to the rare gift of listening.  Everywhere in the world these days are many ceaselessly talking and writing without listening, with no regard to the hate, anger, truth, fear, sadness and hurt they unleash.  We cannot avoid it.  Yet what we CAN do is strive to nurture the rare gift of listening within ourselves.  We have the power within to do this.  All it takes is a tiny seed to make a huge tree grow, dear ones.

There is peace in silence.  And remember, to listen more than one speaks (or writes) is a rare gift.

Selah.💫

Travels with a horse in tow...

I was born under a wandering star...

When I get to Heaven,

Tie me to a tree,
For I will begin to roam again,
And you'll know where I will be.
                          
                               ~Paint Your Wagon


I thank God that I have been free to wander, free to hope, and free to love...

My dear ones, you probably have gathered by now my journey has taken me to many places.  And it has indeed...in between the many MANY hospital stays.  I daresay because of those, I would plunge back into life and the joy of living with intensity, knowing yet another stay was imminent.  Also I knew there would come a time when I couldn't live with the same intensity at all anymore due to the very deteriorating physical battles ahead.  I am definitely at that place now, but with a profound sense of gratitude I was able to experience the thrill of getting to see what was beyond each new horizon so very much along the way.  And make many dear friends...with two legs and four legs.  Of course some of those four legs went where I went.

The amazing thing is how I managed to do it all.  Even more so as a Little Person.

My friend Devon used to say, "As long as Adelaide has her horse, cat, and drawing table, she just bravely follows the wind wherever it blows.  Being physically challenged doesn't keep her from having the joy of living.  Or making things happen."

Once when still young, I followed the wind across three states pulling my horse Selah in a horse trailer behind me.  Anywhere I stopped for gas and coffee, I really shocked the hell out of people seeing this Little Person traveling alone...with a horse?!!  A cat too, actually.😃

"Lady, is that your horse?" [Can't you see I am pulling it behind me?!!🤔]

"Yep."

"How do you get ON it?!!"

Sigh.🙄

Sometimes we just have to plunge forth, be brave, and suck out the marrow of life.  Perhaps be even a little bit crazy too?🐎🤣🐎

Encountering the famous...

When working in Theatre one sometimes meets the famous along the way, and my life just happened to cross paths with a few...

One year Mikhail Baryshnikov, the amazing ballet star was on tour and came to the performing arts center I worked for.  His performance had long been sold out.

Prior to the performance when life backstage can really get crazy, the two of us passed each other.  The first was Baryshnikov and a entourage of people around him, while I, with brushes in my hands and paint on my face, was in a rush.

The second time he was alone and stopped me.  He said, "I could not help but notice you..."

I responded with my usual humor by saying, "Oh crap!  Is it because of the paint on my face?!!"

And he burst out laughing.  We briefly chatted, then Baryshnikov asked, "Will you be staying for the performance?"

"I plan to watch it from the wings!  Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

And I was there.

After Baryshnikov's performance he was given roses, and more than one standing ovation.  As the curtains finally fell, he gave me a rose, saying, "This is for meeting you, and THIS is for the paint you still have on your face."  And THAT, was a kiss!

Another performer I was so blessed to meet was the dear actor Harold Gould.  He starred in many stage productions, television shows and movies, including one of my favorites, "The Sting."  

Mr. Gould came to town with a stage production 

he was in.

We met backstage when he couldn't find the way to his dressing room.  Being a Little Person throws open the door for conversations one normally would not get to have.  Mr. Gould said, "I can't help but notice you are a Little Person!"

"Oh dear!  Is it THAT noticeable?!!"

He laughed so hard.

Then we had the nicest conversation.  It turns out he also loved horses.  As soon as he learned about mine, he asked, "How do you get ON your horse?!!"  (I am asked this SO much, if I ever write a book that question should be the title)😂

After the performance we had coffee and a delightful conversation together in his hotel lounge, about life, dreams, art, and horses before going our separate ways.

The next person I am going to share here, is someone most of you may have never heard of, however, those who know theatre, will know who this incredible lady is...Betty Comden.  Her writing partnership with Adolph Green was the longest one in theatre history, lasting six decades.  They provided the lyrics, and screenplays to some of the most beloved Hollywood musicals, and Broadway shows ever.  "Singing In The Rain" is just one of them.

How we met is really funny.  In New York, on a crowded street in the Theatre District one day,
a lady literally ran into me, nearly knocking me over.  This happens to Little People a lot you see, when people not expecting a hooman to be down here, will plow into us.😱

Immediately as she began profusely apologizing, I blurted out, "You're Betty Comden!  WOW, it is such a pleasure to meet you!"  Which then shocked the hell out of HER, because often people had no idea what Comden and Green even looked like.  I knew, because of my passion for Theatre History.  I was thrilled to meet her!  Ms. Comden was flattered.

Both of us had a free moment, so we went to a nearby coffee shop, spending a delightful time
talking theatre, Set Design, art, dreams, poetry, jewelry, horses.  "Dear, if you don't mind me asking, how DO you get ON your horse?!!"😂

Though I have met other famous people, I am only going to share one more here.  And believe me, this is someone known worldwide.  None other than Colonel Harland Sanders himself, of Kentucky Fried Chicken, whose home was close to the farm where I boarded some of my horses.

We first met when he was the Grand Marshall of a small town parade close to the farm, which my pony and I rode in.  He was very intrigued, saying, "Why you're one of those little ones, aren't you?"

"Oh crap!  I didn't think it was showing!"

He got a kick out of my humor.

So about a year later one day, as I was riding my pony Sadie off farm, a limo suddenly pulled up beside us, and it was Colonel Sanders who recognized me because my dwarfism was still showing.🤣

"Little One, I told Miss Claudia (his wife) about you, and she would just love to meet you.  Can you come on up to our place?  PLEEZE?"

How could I possibly turn The Colonel down?  Sadie and I headed up to their place, where The Colonel and Miss Claudia were waiting.  They had been married for decades and clearly adored each other.  And they both had a question they wanted to ask.  "Honey, HOW do you get ON your horse?"

That became the first of a few brief visits where we drank ice tea and talked.

But knowing how fiercely The Colonel was known for guarding the secret of his very famous Kentucky Fried Chicken recipe, I knew better than to ever ask what was in it, regardless of how darn cute he said I was...😂