Buttermilk and the Plastic Saddle

I really did sub for Mom in a parade. Mom and Dad were to be the Grand Marshals of the Portland, OR Rose Parade but she came down with pneumonia and it was too late to cancel their appearance, so she volunteered me to ride in her place. Now. she always credited Buttermilk as the cause of her having to have a hysterectomy. He was a great horse but he was very short-coupled and trotted every chance he got. Also, plastic saddles were not one of Dad’s better investments. They were like sitting on bricks in the morning as the parade would start. Then, as the sun came up and you and the horse warmed up, the seat would get slippery and the stirrups would start to stretch! Between Buttermilk and the plastic saddle, I swore I would never ride a horse in another parade and didn’t until I rode in the Pasadena Tournament of Roses Parade 40 years later. Anyway, here I am, on Buttermilk, June 14, 1954.