Yep, that's me, on a Christmas morning somewhat prior to this one, wearing my coonskin cap and pseudo-buckskin suit, brandishing my Marx flintlock pistol and riding my new red hobby horse. (That blurry thing at the bottom of the photo is a terrycloth b'arskin rug.)
Anyway, that horse was put out to pasture long ago, and I never knew what happened to him until we were reunited this year in a Phoenix antique mall. Here he is, wearing a $119 price tag, and looking just as fit as the first time we rode together. Sadly, I had to leave him behind. He wouldn't fit in my carry-on.
5 comments:
Old Paint, I take it?
Sounds like that was quite a Christmas, Evan. Only problem is that horse doesn't look like the outdoorsy type.
Old Red Paint, I think.
Seems to me we did most of our riding in the Wild Frontier of the living room.
Adorable!
I don't think my folks spent that much for my toys during my entire childhood.
As for Old Dobbin, I'm sure the shopkeeper would have shipped him to you for a small fee.
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