I was that girl who played with horses. Dolls were alright for the occasional accessorizing session. But horses? That’s where the fun was at, peoples. I remember spending hours on my bedroom floor playing with my herd of horses. There is still a box in the attic that holds the collection. (That collection represents many happy memories and many weeks of saving my allowance. I can't just yard sale it.) As I got older, it turned into reading every Black Stallion book I could get my hands on. Not a hard mission to accomplish when you find out your piano teacher has almost every single one of them in her library AND is willing to let you borrow them. That was almost as awesome as finding a herd of horses in a pasture right below the Eastern Sierras… at sunset. God is good.