About Me

Kindred Spirits by Jenness Cortez

Kindred Spirits by Jenness Cortez

Welcome. It’s good to see you here. This page is to tell you a few things about myself.

Horses greet me every morning. That’s been true every day of my life. I have photos of myself seated on Dad’s pony when I just barely knew how to sit up.

Dad was known as The Ponyman by every kid within forty miles. He owned a carnival and kept a herd of ponies who worked on pony tracks and in the movies. His herd provided mounts to my friends who didn’t have one of their own. His carnival was the first place of employment for hundreds of young teens. What fun we had.

Dad has passed on, and his carnival is no more, but his legacy is still with me. I think of him every time I touch the soft coat of a four-legged friend. The barn at dawn is a comforting, intriguing place. The horses are glad to see me, calling softly to hurry with their breakfast. As they settle to a good meal, I can settle too, watching and learning from them. Long days with them are satisfying and filled with happiness.

What a blessing they’ve been. They’ve been my steady friends through the bad times and the good. They carried me into adventures I would have missed without their courage. They’ve patiently kept me company when I’ve cried and joyfully ran bucking in celebration.

This blog is my journal of memories and day-to-day experiences. It is also a record of important events and a way to extend my ability to teach others about these marvelous creatures.

I hope you enjoy wandering these pages, perhaps find a new bit of information that has value or share your thoughts about our common love of equines.

My name is Loretta Kemsley, but you can call me Lore. Let’s talk, if you’ve a mind to, or better yet, let’s spend the day outside in the sunshine or rain with our good friends.

“No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.”  ~ Winston Churchill

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4 Comments to “About Me”

  1. Hi Lore its Gnur, (Adam Nehr)

    I loved the shot of you and the golden Palimino it looks like the two of you knew your way around the barrels. I rode throughout my youth and grew up on a horse farm. I trained ropers, hunter-jumpers, and general saddle horses. Competed in Equitation (western and English) and helped my dad break new mounts and re-break some pasture wild old boys. (the worst bucking I ever knew was a 11 year old that had been in a neighbors pasture for six years and was never ridden; damn, we argued for a spell before he saw things my way! I think my vision was blurred for a day or two after that ride) I still ride occasionally with friends but don’t own my own mount. I’m 57 and in great health so now that I am retired I might just ride again but who knows life is so full of adventures. Google my name and you will get an idea of my interesting life so far.

    I really liked your perspective on the Martin tragedy, it was a shame what happened and a threat to law abiding gun owners everywhere and I do not know why any responsible gun owner would support what happened it was just plain wrong!

    What you said about team roping rang true with me as well. As a testosterone dripping rural youth (you know the type) I was a lot of hat and few cattle sometimes but had SOME common sense. A friend tried to get me to ride bulls after several pretty good practice sessions on broncs and as I got up on top of the chute the beast who would give me my first ride cranked his head around and looked me in the eye. There was pure malice in his gaze and I decided I would not trouble him further. My friend called me a pejorative and suggested I go buy myself a nice pretty dress as he roped up after taking my place on the beast. He did not look so smug in all that plaster and lying in his hospital bed the next day. One day my Favorite roper Skyhawk a 14.2 Appaloosa with a front end like a mack truck and I were practicing in the ring during a drizzling rain. Neither of us minded the mud and so we were resigned to getting filthy but were not prepared for what would happen. This horse and I loved each other and were one when roping. He was a fantastic rater and put me in position almost right out of the box every time. I nodded and we went to work two swings and I shot…perfect hit; I jerked slack threw it and started my usual Indian side dismount when it all went to hell.I felt sky’s rear end go sideways as his hind feet slid sideways in the mud throwing him off balance. At the same time the calf hit the end of the line and jerked sky at an angle just as my weight hit the right stirrup. You can see where this went and luckily I had my left foot just coming over the rump so I pushed off as Sky rolled toward the right violently his feet going out from under him without control. He would have broken my leg had he landed on it but I pushed clear he hit the ground with a horrible whoof and continued rolling. This is where I knew he loved me I swear he knew he would kill me rolling over and hitting me with his legs and he did everything he could to keep from rolling over any more. The saddle helped but he had enough momentum and weight to just bury it in the mud but he fought to the point where I think he hurt himself stopping the roll (he acted sore and miserable for a couple days after.) Afterward he looked over his shoulder at me and our eyes met. the look was WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED BOSS? To this day I remember that look on my equine friends face. it was precious!

    You can write on my facebook page in reply or just answer here I will check back and I’ll see you on the vine as we try to impart reason to the unreasonable.

    • Hi Adam.
      Yes, that discussion about Zimmermann and Martin over on Newsvine was a bit disturbing. I liked your posts too. Very direct and filled with facts.

      Your wreck reminds me of a few I’ve been in myself. Love the detail. I told my daughter I just met a genuine cowboy. I know because you know the right jargon and — like cowboys everywhere — you talked about a wreck rather than bragging about triumphs. LOL. Isn’t that always the way?

      You’re right about horses trying to keep off from us in a fall. I was training one young grey when he tripped over a low jump with his rider on board. He flipped, and his rider’s leg became trapped under him. He literally lay still with all four legs in the air until she managed to wiggle out from under him. Only when she was clear did he roll over and get up.

      I need to write a post about Jesse, my palomino friend in my avatar. We had so much fun together. He was eager to learn and try anything new.

      I stopped by FB and left you a friend request. I didn’t leave a message there because it would have gone into your “other” box until you confirm the friendship. I’ve left them for other friends, and they never found them, so I thought I’d wait.

      I see you’re in Florida. I’m in California. I’m a sunshine and beach gal and not much for cold weather. Which is ironic because I’m watching the Olympic figure skaters as I write. Such talent, but I feel cold just watching.

  2. I read your story about Maggie. It was beautiful. I’ve written many for Betsy. We got together so many times in the past several years and I would write stories for her about our youth. I’ll drag one out for you. We grew up in Dana Point, we our stories are centered on the beach and life in a very different and very wild South Orange County; although it was during a similar time frame it would appear.

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