Quick, what's this I'm hoisting?
If you guessed croquet mallet, you're wrong! See the next photo for a clue...
Now you've got it--it's a polo mallet! Mom and Dad took me to my first polo match last weekend, on the way to a
wedding. As soon as I saw all the horses, I wanted to talk about them, but I didn't know the sign for what they were, so I dug into my mental dictionary and came up with the animal that most closely matched what I was seeing: "dog" (slap of the thigh, like you're calling a dog). Mom and Dad understood me. They loyally called them "big dogs" the rest of the day.
If I watched real closely, the little white ball the players were chasing on their horses would come by where we were sitting. Gosh, it looked hard to hit from horseback. But each team scored several times, so it is possible.
There were 13 teams from all over, and the setting was a very scenic farm, as you can tell, near La Conner. I saw a reporter from the
Skagit Valley Herald there, and
here's a link to the story she published. She does a better job explaining the rules of the game than I could.
We only knew about this cool event from our friend Ed (pictured above, with his friend Mary). We met the two of them there and visited under the tent that was set up for spectators.
One of the polo players let me hold his mallet...
...and pet his pony...
...and even sit in the saddle for a brief moment, until she shifted and I got nervous and he lifted me down and back to the safety of Mom's arms. Whew! Big dogs can be kind of scary.
Now, wouldn't I like to drive the truck that can haul
that horse trailer!
Quick, what's this I'm hoisting?
If you guessed croquet mallet, you're wrong! See the next photo for a clue...
Now you've got it--it's a polo mallet! Mom and Dad took me to my first polo match last weekend, on the way to a wedding. As soon as I saw all the horses, I wanted to talk about them, but I didn't know the sign for what they were, so I dug into my mental dictionary and came up with the animal that most closely matched what I was seeing: "dog" (slap of the thigh, like you're calling a dog). Mom and Dad understood me. They loyally called them "big dogs" the rest of the day.
If I watched real closely, the little white ball the players were chasing on their horses would come by where we were sitting. Gosh, it looked hard to hit from horseback. But each team scored several times, so it is possible.
There were 13 teams from all over, and the setting was a very scenic farm, as you can tell, near La Conner. I saw a reporter from the Skagit Valley Herald there, and here's a link to the story she published. She does a better job explaining the rules of the game than I could.
We only knew about this cool event from our friend Ed (pictured above, with his friend Mary). We met the two of them there and visited under the tent that was set up for spectators.
One of the polo players let me hold his mallet...
...and pet his pony...
...and even sit in the saddle for a brief moment, until she shifted and I got nervous and he lifted me down and back to the safety of Mom's arms. Whew! Big dogs can be kind of scary.
Now, wouldn't I like to drive the truck that can haul that horse trailer!
No comments:
Post a Comment