Nancy

When I was eight years old, Nancy a stringy-haired blond, chose me to be her playmate. She idolized horses and always played "horsey" with me. Since I didn't know a horse from a dog in those days, the game was mostly Nancy acting like a horse and me standing around like "a bump on a log," and watching her prance around. She knew all the horse sounds too and what they meant: the neighing, nickering, snorting and sighing. recess kids swing laughing at us bell rinngs She was a gifted artist recognized for her drawings and one of her horse portraits won a regional contest! She also wrote poetry about horses--strikingly good for a pre-teen I never forgot her even though our friendship waned as we got older. I would write her a sonnet years later. . . well endowed older teen boys chased her for a feel