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Royal (Chestnut Arabian Gelding) and Crystal (Black Quarter Horse Mare) in Motion
Royal is a chestnut Arabian gelding and Crystal is a black Quarter Horse mare. Royal is the same horse who had his head by a bucket of oats that a goat was hogging, about two pictures previous to this one.
This photo also has Douglas Fir trees, a Walnut orchard and a grass seed crop.
These were two out of three of my horses. They didn't start out to all be mine, nor did they end up all mine. Royal had been a 4-H horse, and was 14 years old when I got him. We lived in a very small town, the 3rd oldest town in Oregon, and we lived outside of town at that. Population sign on the East side of town said 1255. On the West side of the same town, it said 1258. I liked to say it was because 3 of us (my husband, now my ex-husband and my daughter, Jennifer, and I) lived on the East side. Of course, that made absolutely no sense; but that is why it was fun to say.
I had been hurt very badly, to the tune of two knee operations and a concussion, and having to sleep with a motion machine going all night, from a previous horse, named Silver. Silver was a whitish silver Arabian, hot blooded as Hell; and I had no business having him, but that is another story. Because I had been hurt on him, it was important to me to get a gentle horse. Royal was my first one since my knee surgeries and since the move to Brownsville. I rode him so many times I couldn't count them all, but the first night I got him, for reasons I do not recall (something stupid) I ended up in the saddle on him, but no bridle. Maybe it fell off. Anyway, it was not secured on before I got in the saddle, and Royal started walking away. Here I was with my nice gentle formerly 4-H horse, and I was scared to death. He started walking fairly fast, and I thought I would be dead for sure if he took off. I was petrified. Fortunately he stopped walking, and my husband got hold of him, and everything was set right. What a way to start, though!
Royal and I rode to an old pioneer cemetery way up in the foothills, and down the road, and through orchards, and all around our place, and down to a neighbor's place where they let me ride. I was able to go in the Calapooia River with him when it was low. For me it was a dream come true. I grew up watching Westerns on television, and longed to grow up and have a horse of my own on my own property. Royal was the achievement of that dream.
When I got divorced, and first didn't get the house and property, and then did get it later, I had it for awhile and could not hang on financially. Probably not emotionally , either, but that also is another story. Royal was 23 years old. I sold him. I do not know where he is now, or what happened to him. I'm hoping he got a nice home with some lightweight kids. If he is still alive, which I doubt, he would be about 32 years old. Somehow, I believe he has crossed over the Rainbow Bridge.
Crystal, ended up the only horse I had left. The third one I mentioned will be another story when his picture is shown too. Right now, I'm just telling about Royal and Crystal. Crystal was 12 years old when we got her, and therefore, she would be about 28 years old, if the people we bought her from told the truth. I think they did. Anyway, Crystal was supposed to come with me to Corvallis when I moved here, but I couldn't afford it. I had left her in Brownsville, when my ex-husband and his girlfriend moved back to the little farm. Well, that is *he* moved back in. She had never been there before. They kept Crystal until I got settled, and somehow, it seemed best that they still have her. Last time I talked to him, he said Crystal was thin, but alive and happy in the companionship of a horse that his girlfriend, now wife, had bought.
Crystal was beautiful, but I also had a very frightening experience on my first ride with her at our home. My husband at the time, was on Royal, riding ahead of me, and Crystal suddenly sank about half way down and starting struggling really frantically. I fell off and hit my head. My husband and I thought, geesh, I guess we got cheated on this horse. Further inspection showed that Crystal had gotten stuck in a muddy hole of clay type soil, and could not free her lower leg and hoof from it. It had nothing to do with me (except maybe my weight pushed her in hole more). She pulled so hard she sucked her new shoe right off. Poor baby! She calmed down, my head got better; we got the shoe replaced, and Crystal became part of the family. She wasn't a perfect trail horse, but pretty good most of the time. She also went down to the Calapooia River with me, and all over the East side of Brownsville countryside.
I'm glad to know she is still alive, and enough time has passed that I no longer care about my ex and his wife having her on my old place. It just doesn't seem to matter anymore. Time changes things. I expect a call anytime now saying she has passed on, but I know she is having a pretty good life, and a long one, for
Lynn Redgrave 1943 - 2010
Gifted actor with a flair for comedy from a celebrated British theatrical dynasty
Even by the colourful standards of her own family's public profile and professional achievements, Lynn Redgrave, who has died of breast cancer aged 67, was an exceptional personality. Her death seems particularly cruel after the loss of both her niece, Natasha Richardson, after a skiing accident last year, and her brother, Corin Redgrave, last month. The third child of the actors Michael Redgrave and Rachel Kempson, Lynn was a gifted comedian who received her first Oscar nomination for a delightful, clownish performance in the title role of Georgy Girl (1966), one of the defining movies of the so-called swinging 60s. She went on to spend many years living and working in America. Less politically engaged than her older siblings, Vanessa and Corin, she was no less a remarkable talent.
Her 1991 television remake of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? with Lynn and Vanessa in the Bette Davis and Joan Crawford roles respectively, is a collector's item. The sisters also starred together in a riotous and emotionally raw 1990 revival of Chekhov's Three Sisters at the Queen's Theatre, directed by Robert Sturua of the Rustaveli theatre in Tbilisi, Georgia. Vanessa played Olga, and the sisters' niece Jemma Redgrave (Corin's daughter) played Irena. Lynn's Masha was an unforgettable, frustrated bundle of nervous energy seeping through her cigarette smoke, musical wails and sudden cries.
In her touring solo show, Shakespeare for My Father (1994-96), she exorcised her feelings of distance from the imperious Michael Redgrave by relating how she reached him only by becoming an actor herself. The lonely, lumpy child was transformed by her talent, and the evening, full of wonderful vignettes and speeches, reached a moving climax in the reconciliation scene of Lear with Cordelia. She turned her attention to her mother's life in a 2001 play for seven actors, The Mandrake Root. In her later one-woman show Nightingale, which won the LA Drama Critics Circle award for best solo performance, she again explored the life of her mother, as well as her maternal grandmother, and also touched upon her own failed marriage.
Lynn's legal battles and marital upheavals were the stuff of soap opera. In 1967 she married John Clark, a former child actor who played the title role in Just William on BBC radio. She settled happily in California in 1974, with Clark as her manager. In 1981 she sued Universal Television for wrongful dismissal and claimed she was not allowed to breast-feed her third child, Annabel, in her dressing-room during the filming of the CBS sitcom House Calls. The litigation lasted 13 years; she lost the suit and was declared bankrupt.
Her marriage to Clark was dissolved in 2000, two years after he revealed that he had had an affair with her personal assistant, Nicolette Hannah, and that Lynn's supposed grandson Zachary was in fact Clark's own son by Hannah, who had married (and subsequently divorced) their son Benjamin. Lynn battled with her weight and was a spokesperson for WeightWatchers in the 1980s. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002, had a mastectomy the following year and wrote a journal of her recovery with photographs by her daughter Annabel.
Lynn was born in London and, like Vanessa before her, attended Queen's Gate school, Kensington, and the Central School of Speech and Drama. Her first job was at the Royal Court in A Midsummer Night's Dream (1962). The director Tony Richardson (Vanessa's then husband) told her to play Helena "as a giraffe".
She was one of the original 12 contract artists in Laurence Olivier's National Theatre, tragic as the daughter Kattrin in Mother Courage and hilariously dim as the gormless flapper Jackie Coryton in Noel Coward's own 1964 revival of Hay Fever – the one which had a cast, Coward said, that could play the Albanian telephone directory. (Her co-stars were Edith Evans, Robert Lang, Maggie Smith, Robert Stephens and Derek Jacobi.)
Before she left for California, she appeared in the West End transfer of David Hare's Slag in 1971 and at Greenwich in 1973 with Dave King in Garson Kanin's Born Yesterday. But her career, to British eyes at least, became unfocused. None of her films really matched the charm of early work in Tom Jones (1963) with Albert Finney; The Girl With Green Eyes (1964) with Rita Tushingham and Peter Finch; and, of course, Georgy Girl, with Alan Bates and Charlotte Rampling.
There was the odd sighting on Broadway, from Peter Shaffer's Black Comedy with Michael Crawford in 1966 to Alan Bennett's Talking Heads in 2003. A London visit in 2001, when she took over Patricia Hodge's role as Dotty Otley in a revival of Michael Frayn's sensationally funny backstage farce Noises Off, reminded audiences of her zany brilliance.
Lynn played Dotty, the fast-fading rep actress in a floral housecoat, like some ridiculous parody of Gloria Swanson in Ashton-under-Lyne
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