Martin Grelle

The man and I hadn’t been to a proper sit down restaurant since before covid started… and six months before that. I don’t like eating out anymore. The tables seem closer together these days and people are loud, especially children. One of my favorite sounds is kids playing out in the yard or street… but transfer those cries and screams to a booth behind me and food is the last thing I want. Escape becomes a priority.

There were no children when we first sat down but I understand that Longhorn is a family type restaurant.

When we first planted ourselves and removed our masks (!) I happened to glance up at the Martin Grelle hanging right in front of me. It was huge. (Nothing like overstatement, eh? Saddles and brands and rodeo belt buckles abounded. Thought I was back in Texas.) The picture was glorious, and I felt as though I could have reached up and felt horse hair.

Turning my attention back to the man wasn’t easy, more so when the waitress brought a loaf of bread and chunk o’ butter to the table. Oh, dear. My favorite things before I had to give up gluten a few years ago, they’re still my favorite. I just don’t indulge. So… I turned my eyes to the picture while Mike ate.

And escaped into it completely.

The sun was bright but it didn’t warm the cool day. In the 50’s if I had to guess. The quarter horse beside me (I’d named him Buck) was warm from working cattle, though. I could smell the wonderful aroma of horse and leather.

Brushing the forelock off his blaze, my hand ran over the horse’s neck, withers and down his shoulder. Horses feel so good. What is that saying? “The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man”. Truth.

Soon my hand rested on Buck’s rump and then his flank. His belly twitched like it was trying to throw off flies when I touched it, just like Toffee’s used to… We were old friends, Buck and I, and I knew every inch of him, down to the fetlocks.

Mike had eaten almost all the bread and I was goggling at him like he had three heads. There was a baby screaming bloomer behind me and I longed to be back beside Buck on the plains…

10 thoughts on “Escape

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  1. Oh yes Pam…so glorious and vivid was your description that my mind and heart began to wander as I was wanting to join them too out on the wide open grassy plains! So beautiful a portrait and such a fine beautiful animal that I see in this masterpiece! I’d love to be in that piece of Genuine Americana where there was real peace. The cowboys and cowgirls really knew and in some parts still do; about how to have a beautiful life. Thank you for the dream I just had!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh it really is even if that dreamy way I was just wishing! Maybe someday in the not too distant future I can go out to a dude ranch or some even better venue to be a pretend cow poke for a week!
        Thank you for that inspiration; that is a very cool posting! Hey that is a riding technique that just popped out of me, so maybe that’s a good omen or sign!๐Ÿ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

  2. That image reminds me of the Night Rider’s Lament by Jerry Jeff Walker. Oddly enough, he’s come up in conversation several times in the past two weeks.

    I so long to be back on a horse. Indeed, they’re magical & capable of transforming even the most hardened heart.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I love their quiet strength and unassuming power. The fact that such a large animal would give us mere humans their affection is mind boggling.

        Plus, I like the way they smell. I especially love how they smell when they’ve had a bit of sun on them.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I hadn’t thought about it that way… What if they hadn’t been domesticated? They’d be this mystical animal we wished to know… flying across the plains, manes and tails streaming…! Our parents would have warned us not to get too close; they have sharp hooves and those teeth! They could run us over!


          Liked by 1 person

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