Back in the Saddle (Tara Taylor Quinn)

Okay, so maybe I've been listening to a little too much country music! Saddle? I haven't been on (or in) a saddle in more years than I can count. Never did spend all that much time there, although I loved (and still love) horse back riding. Looks like I'm soon to be riding a different kind of saddle, though. My husband wants a motorcycle. We're going to take long rides with our rollerblades in the saddlebags until we find someplace to stop and skate. I can already feel the bliss of freedom - a healthy freedom. I knew that freedom before. A long time ago. My older brother had a bike. Some big thing with trunks on the side. He and I spent the day on it once - traveling to some park that was miles and miles of wooded roads. I was afraid to do that again. But I'm back. We've been looking at bikes for several weeks now. And we'll keep looking until we find just the right one.

I used to ride the music saddle. I loved discovering new (or new to me) singers. New music. I'm not all that particular to genre. I'm particular to lyrics. They need to speak to me. And the musicality is important - there have to be chords that grip me. My favorites stretch from Colin Raye to Led Zeppelin - Helen Reddy to Carrie Underwood, Jim Nabors and Barbra Streisand to Rascal Flatts. I love the Eagles. And Kansas. Styx. Supertramp. And, of course, Pink Floyd. I've seen Neil Diamond in concert more times than any other performer. I've seen Kenny Rogers, Carole King, Anita Baker, John Denver, Barbra Striesand, Helen Reddy, Steve Miller Band, Journey, Eddie Money, The Eagles, James Taylor, Chicago, Air Supply, Linda Davis, Jean Luc Ponty, Gordon Lightfoot, various Windham Hill artists in joint concerts, Kenny G, Kenny Loggins, Trans Siberian Orchestra, and the pop series of the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra. To name a few. Somehow, along the way, I fell off the saddle. I haven't 'discovered' anyone new in months. This week, I'm back. His name is Jeff Buckley. He's become famous in the past weeks because one of the contestants on American Idol performed a Buckley rendition of an older song. That song, the Buckley version, just hit as the number selling digital recording of all time. Until a week ago, I'd never heard of this performer. Today, I own the one full length, polished cd he ever cut. I don't actually have it in my possession yet - it's on it's way to me - but I bought it! It's called Grace. I'm going to have to get enough of a Buckley fix out of it because he won't be making any more music. He died, tragically, at age 31. He died at the top of his game. But he lives on through his music. It's incredible. So much so that ten years after his death his my space page gets many many comments a day from fans.

And...I'm back in another saddle, too. I spent 18 years of my life alone all day every day with a girl child. I loved those years. I loved being a mom. I loved the chatter and the joy, the emotion and the discoveries. I loved being with a young woman who had insight and innocence all rolled into one. I loved the hope and the idea that the future was all ahead, filled with magical wonders that would unfold one at a time. I was comfortable there. Confident. Fulfilled. I believed I was contributing something great to the world - and to her - doing the job that God had given me to do. Raising this special soul he'd loaned to me. Today, after a long drought, I get some of that again. My sister-in-law is being kind enough to loan me her fifteen-year-old daughter for the afternoon. We're driving about an hour from here to an outlet mall (envision Coach, Gap, Levis and four sections of other stores) to shop. Just me and her. It's my niece's birthday and this is our gift to her. I feel selfish, though, because it's turning out to be more of a gift to me. I'm looking forward to it so much! It sure feels good to be back.

Here's another one - softball. I played as a kid. Not that great. I wasn't big enough, strong enough. But I played the whole game every game. It was a city league. I was a catcher. And I caught okay. I ran bases real good, too. The problem was my batting. While most people assume a position to bunt - I didn't need to do that. When I hit the ball, it dribbled out to the pitcher. Every time. I just couldn't get enough power behind the bat. I made up for my lack of umph in the running though. Pretty much every time I hit the ball, I made it to first base before the ball did. Beyond my own efforts, I also spent my youth at the little league field. After years of being the most faithful spectator known to man, I was finally given an official position. Scorekeeper. I mean it. For real. I loved that job! I loved watching ball. And I'm back again!! Four nights or more a week right now. I love being back at the field. Watching the strategy. Angsting over mistakes and feeling the rush of adrenalin over victory. I LOVE hearing the kids cheer and rally. I love watching how hard they try. And how talented they are! I'd love it even more if I could watch the person I most want to see play, play every inning. But at least I'm back at the field. Learning the players. Knowing who hits best, who pitches best, who I can rely on in the outfield to catch the ball. Having confidence that when number 7 is playing first, the play will almost always go in our favor.

One more saddle - it's black leather, just like the horse saddle and the bike saddle. This one is from Troy Bilt. I rode it for hours this past weekend. All over my yard. I had the easy part - the riding mower. My man cheerfully took the non-saddle version and pushed the little mower around all the places I couldn't get. And then we installed exterior lighting. I can now do that on my own if I ever need to. I dug the trenches for the cords. I plugged in the light bulbs. He did the electric - but I watched. I know how it's done! I weeded the garden. And what a garden! Everyday there's another treat as flowers that others before us planted are coming back to greet us. We have gardens that stretch all across the front of the property - and across the back, too. And along the side of the driveway. I was going to buy a bunch of plants, but so much is coming up that I don't have room to put things! I'm not even sure what we're getting, but the colors are magnificent. Pansies for sure. And some day lilies, I think.

Here's one that you probably won't believe, but I have to say it anyway because it's really true. The laundry saddle. Do you know there's something integrally satisfying about caring for the clothes of those you love? I love doing laundry. I love feeling the clothes in my hands as I fold them. Smelling the fabric softener. Seeing the drawers full of clean, nice clothes. Knowing which day and to which function a particular shirt was worn. Remembering the week's activities. Or how someone looked. I lost that satisfaction for a long time, but it's back. I get to do laundry again. I don't have to. My husband's willing to help. I WANT to do it. I love the way it makes me feel. I'm a wife. A nurturer. A caregiver. This is a saddle I don't think I'll ever take for granted.

I'm in the writing saddle, too. I heard this week that Sara's Son - a RITA finalist - is also a finalist for the National Reader's Choice Award. As is another book I had out last year, The Night We Met. Double finalist! And right now, my brain is so busy pushing me I'm getting twenty to thirty pages a day as I sit here at the computer. Things are clicking. Coming together. James/Craig likes himself now. I like him better, too. Marybeth, his heroine, always did like him.

Saddles...they come in all shapes and sizes and colors. Some are literal. Some are figurative. But thank goodness they're here, supporting us, giving us places to land, to fit - giving us grounding as we go about the business of making our way through this world. I took my saddles, the things that I love, that make me me, for granted. Until I started to lose them. This week I've paid particular attention to them. Looked for them. And right there they are. Waiting for me to come sit a while.

I'd love to hear about your saddles - it's a great way to get to know each other.