If I were to tell a tale, well, there were lots of glory days. Lots and lots of glory days, some a moment long, some a bit longer, all glowing glowing, all still with some warmth.
We’d been at MM for nine months and it was the day of the Showmaster Championships, a horse show for the equivalent of “seniors”, those of us who’d be graduating with the Horsemaster diploma. The last four weeks or so the constant weekly changing of horses had stopped and everyone had chosen their “graduation horse” that they would ride for the Showmaster and for graduation which was a riding ceremony. We’d picked an underclassman to be our “groom” for the day. We’d picked our classes, I think we got our choice of any six.
Of all the English majors, Holly, Benson and I were the best. I was the third best, no doubt about that. Which of them was first would have been a toss up: Holly was an effective rider who always, always looked beautiful on a horse; Benson was the strongest damn rider I’ve ever seen still to this day. Me, I had a certain feel, I could sink down into a horse and ask them to do something and not get in their way and they usually would but I rarely looked that good doing it. I’d gotten a few blues through the year of weekly shows but not that many. I don’t know that anyone ever beat the three of us out for a blue ever -- it was always one of us.
So there we were on Showmaster day. We’d picked our classes, not all the same ones. Benson, I remember, picked a dressage class not because he particularly wanted to but because neither Holly nor I was entering it and it was an almost sure blue for him in that case. I don’t really have any idea what I picked except for that last class of the day: Choose Your Line.
Choose Your Line is jumping so prettiness doesn’t count, only cleanness. And fastness. I was on a cute little grade paint hunter type who would, it turned out, do anything at all I asked of him. Holly was on a bigger, rangier, more correct and astoundingly beautiful warmblood type. Benson had picked a little Quarter Horse that could. At this point in the day I had no blues but hadn’t finished out of the ribbons either. Holly had probably racked up a whole passel of blues, and Benson was second in point standings.
The course was posted and set. There were three obstacles arranged like \__/ except with a little less acute angulations, there was a combination down the fence line, and I think only one other obstacle. The combination could only be jumped in one direction, away from the in-gate. I don’t really remember about the others. I remember that I took that \__/ thing first, and went over first the left side of it, two bending strides to the right side of it, then a tight turn around to go over the middle, then the other obstacle, then the combination line, then tight turn back to the start/finish line. The line I picked was obviously the shortest. Holly’s horse was too big to have done it. Not a single person in the class picked the same line as any other person. When I watched the first two go, I knew if I could get around, I’d have it.
And we got around. I remember warming up, getting Lucky a little excited so he’d be wondering what was going on, moving faster than usual, away from my leg and forward. I remember going over that first jump, right over the start line, and holding my breath to see if I could make that second one. We did. If we can just do the rest clean I thought and then I don’t remember any more until after the final jump when I suddenly wondered where the finish line had gone and only then remember to turn. I still had the best time, by far. And we were clean.
I was hardly out of the arena when Benson shouted at me, “CG, that means you are Reserve Champion!” It hadn’t even occurred to me to calculate that. I wasn’t used to being in the running. But sure enough, I was Reserve Showmaster Champion.
So far this year (exactly 30 years since then!) has been exceedingly cold, too cold to ride, the arena frozen. But I have thought some about what glory I want from riding this year. And it is more a picture than I can put into words. There have been times when I wondered if perhaps I’d fooled myself, if I really never had been all that good to begin with. But then I remember the day with Noad, and the day of the Showmasters, and a few others; and then Holly wrote me not too long ago and said she’d found this horse that, when she rode him, she felt like she used to feel on a horse; like she was really good. She added that we really had been good back in the day, she and I.
What I want is not glory. It is not even anybody else noticing necessarily. What I want to do this year riding is to sink back into horses again, to that quietness. The riders I most admire, you never see them do anything. They’ll have perfect position, their horses will dance, but you won’t see much of anything. I want to achieve that stillness, that quietness. I want to sit inside the horse and for the horse to want to do what I want her to do, for nothing to exist for the horse or for me except for each the other and the dance.
I don't ask for much . . .
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Thursday, December 17, 2009
ring of fire
I have no idea how old I was. Ten maybe? Twelve? Young enough to be shy and to need permission to go outside of the yard.
Our back yard was big, with my pony’s field off to one side of it and Vandiver’s field off to the other side. Vandiver’s field was bigger and went back further than ours and had a little seep of a creek through it that in places just made it swampy for twenty feed across and in places flowed maybe three inches across. Enough that they didn’t have to have a water trough for their chickens.
I don’t remember anything living in that field but that was probably because I’d never paid attention to the cows. One day I came home and there were horses there. Horses. Big horses. Beautiful horses. And one summer evening I came home and there were people with those horses. They were hanging out on the tailgates of their trucks and saddling up and laughing and talking and riding around the field some. I took up a post beside the fencepost closest to them in the fence that separated our yard from their field. And I stood there.
I just watched. I couldn’t really hear anything. I had no idea who they were. I didn’t care. They had horses; they might let me ride their horses. The girl’s saddle even looked like the Lone Ranger’s saddle, black with silver spots all over it. And eventually I guess they noticed me. Or maybe they noticed that I’d stood there and not moved for an hour. So they hollered at me and invited me over. “I’ll have to ask my mom,” I hollered back. And I ran.
I ran downhill through our yard as fast as my legs would carry me and into the kitchen where my mom was and asked if I could go next door with the people who had the horses. Who are they? I don’t know, they have horses and they said I could come over. Did you invite yourself? No. Why did they invite you? They saw me standing by the fence. I think she smiled at that. I don’t know if she went to see who they were or she just relented to my joy at being around horse people or if she really knew who it was all along (or knew she could easily find out the next day). But next thing I remember I was over there hoping to be allowed on a horse.
I don’t remember who they let me ride that night but they did let me ride someone. I think maybe it was Teardrop. She was the one in the fancy saddle. All the horses were gaited, as was my pony I’d had since I was three. Teardrop was a chestnut with a star shaped like a teardrop, a mare with a presence. Rex was probably the nicest (personality wise) horse over there at that time. He belonged to Billy who was in love with Teardrop’s Sherry and they were probably both still teenagers. Rex was grey and a racking horse and could park out till his belly was near on the ground. There were others I don’t remember their names. There was Honey, a little dish faced palomino who gaited with a dish too.
And not too long after that, and for years thereafter, every now and then on a Sunday morning our doorbell would ring and, as my mother would later tell it, “A grown man would ask if you could go riding with them and they’d brought you a horse already saddled up so how could we say no?” It was Honey they brought for me. If they didn’t have a horse for me that day, they’d still come get me and let me ride in “big red”, the truck that Shirley, Coo Boy’s wife would be driving. It was Coo Boy I reckon who took a liking to me and watched out for me. He loved the horses and knew I did too. Sometimes if they weren’t going so far I’d ride my pony and I can still remember Billy saying, “Look at that pony, hot footing keeping up with these horses.”
We went everywhere, on mountain roads we’d stop by country stores and go in and buy a loaf of bread and some bologna and eat in the saddle. On the strip jobs we’d go seemingly forever. One time in a pond Honey surprised me by going down and suddenly I found myself standing on her saddle not knowing what to do and worried that I had ruined it. When she got up somebody poured the water out of one of the saddlebags and told me not to worry about it and on we went.
I do not understand how that idyllic time came to an end, how we wandered away, or to where.
Now in my life I feel that same grace. When LB calls me and says, “Do you want to go riding?”, when she brings me a horse and all the tack and gets the horse shod and hauls it to a trail near my home so I can come riding . . . what does a body say to that? Now when Lisa gives me run of her barn and riding privileges to her prized mare? What, indeed, does a body say to that except, “Thank you.”
Thank you to every person and every horse and every circumstance and every little thing that has helped me glimpse that shimmery magic
Our back yard was big, with my pony’s field off to one side of it and Vandiver’s field off to the other side. Vandiver’s field was bigger and went back further than ours and had a little seep of a creek through it that in places just made it swampy for twenty feed across and in places flowed maybe three inches across. Enough that they didn’t have to have a water trough for their chickens.
I don’t remember anything living in that field but that was probably because I’d never paid attention to the cows. One day I came home and there were horses there. Horses. Big horses. Beautiful horses. And one summer evening I came home and there were people with those horses. They were hanging out on the tailgates of their trucks and saddling up and laughing and talking and riding around the field some. I took up a post beside the fencepost closest to them in the fence that separated our yard from their field. And I stood there.
I just watched. I couldn’t really hear anything. I had no idea who they were. I didn’t care. They had horses; they might let me ride their horses. The girl’s saddle even looked like the Lone Ranger’s saddle, black with silver spots all over it. And eventually I guess they noticed me. Or maybe they noticed that I’d stood there and not moved for an hour. So they hollered at me and invited me over. “I’ll have to ask my mom,” I hollered back. And I ran.
I ran downhill through our yard as fast as my legs would carry me and into the kitchen where my mom was and asked if I could go next door with the people who had the horses. Who are they? I don’t know, they have horses and they said I could come over. Did you invite yourself? No. Why did they invite you? They saw me standing by the fence. I think she smiled at that. I don’t know if she went to see who they were or she just relented to my joy at being around horse people or if she really knew who it was all along (or knew she could easily find out the next day). But next thing I remember I was over there hoping to be allowed on a horse.
I don’t remember who they let me ride that night but they did let me ride someone. I think maybe it was Teardrop. She was the one in the fancy saddle. All the horses were gaited, as was my pony I’d had since I was three. Teardrop was a chestnut with a star shaped like a teardrop, a mare with a presence. Rex was probably the nicest (personality wise) horse over there at that time. He belonged to Billy who was in love with Teardrop’s Sherry and they were probably both still teenagers. Rex was grey and a racking horse and could park out till his belly was near on the ground. There were others I don’t remember their names. There was Honey, a little dish faced palomino who gaited with a dish too.
And not too long after that, and for years thereafter, every now and then on a Sunday morning our doorbell would ring and, as my mother would later tell it, “A grown man would ask if you could go riding with them and they’d brought you a horse already saddled up so how could we say no?” It was Honey they brought for me. If they didn’t have a horse for me that day, they’d still come get me and let me ride in “big red”, the truck that Shirley, Coo Boy’s wife would be driving. It was Coo Boy I reckon who took a liking to me and watched out for me. He loved the horses and knew I did too. Sometimes if they weren’t going so far I’d ride my pony and I can still remember Billy saying, “Look at that pony, hot footing keeping up with these horses.”
We went everywhere, on mountain roads we’d stop by country stores and go in and buy a loaf of bread and some bologna and eat in the saddle. On the strip jobs we’d go seemingly forever. One time in a pond Honey surprised me by going down and suddenly I found myself standing on her saddle not knowing what to do and worried that I had ruined it. When she got up somebody poured the water out of one of the saddlebags and told me not to worry about it and on we went.
I do not understand how that idyllic time came to an end, how we wandered away, or to where.
Now in my life I feel that same grace. When LB calls me and says, “Do you want to go riding?”, when she brings me a horse and all the tack and gets the horse shod and hauls it to a trail near my home so I can come riding . . . what does a body say to that? Now when Lisa gives me run of her barn and riding privileges to her prized mare? What, indeed, does a body say to that except, “Thank you.”
Thank you to every person and every horse and every circumstance and every little thing that has helped me glimpse that shimmery magic
Monday, November 30, 2009
winter memories
The perfect rainy winter day. Saw almost no one. Cold and rainy but didn't bother me much. Work went well. No riding though. But it is just so glorious to be there by myself with the horses and the dogs and the cats and go through all the day's tasks and think my thoughts and do what I like to do.
What I have been thinking about lately is why Meredith Manor was such a good experience that I would love to have three months of again . . . or a month of.
One has to remember that I went there in 1979, when the Manor prided itself on its drop-out rate (50%) instead of its retention rate. That is, it was tough. Very tough. And it had very good riders as teachers. Like Kay Meredith was right then and there on Domino competing internationally. Denny Callan had Zenith as a young horse and was getting scary high scores on him at Training or First. And Struby wasn't so bad (can't find a link but really, she was pretty good) and was riding at Prelim then with that giant horse she had (can't remember his name). And many more (forever thanks to Jeanne Vaire Dake especially). They could and did ride. And we watched them. We watched them ride and get instructed. I actually got to see Col Lundquist teach. And Herr Schmidt ride (and the little horse, Nipper, look surprised he could do it so well). And Kay and Domino would unfailingly bring tears to my eyes with every demonstration Kerr (which they don't call Kerrs anymore).
It was great because it was riding every.day. Four days under instruction an hour and a half. Four days also with your training colt which was another hour and a half of riding. And one day of show. And you changed horses every week. And you had a pool of horses so you knew some of them and some were new to you. And you rode in a group which meant you could watch how other people handled the horse you had last week, and find out whether or not you could get your horse to do something this week that he wouldn't do last week. It was great, wonderful, timely, natural feedback on how you were doing; how good you were. It was far better feedback and meant more than the grades (which were always in line with what had really happened though) and the ribbons.
It was great because we had Mrs. M once a week and she was tough.as.nails. So were the others but she was tough in a different way. It was great because I had Holly and Benson and all three of us were good and pushed each other and also helped each other and somehow weren't threatened by the other perhaps because we each had different strengths and weaknesses and we knew what they were too.
It was great. I would love to have that level of feedback although I might not could take that level of intensity again.
Different teachers, different horses, different riders, and lots of all of them -- and no guarantee of success. But every opportunity for it.
What I have been thinking about lately is why Meredith Manor was such a good experience that I would love to have three months of again . . . or a month of.
One has to remember that I went there in 1979, when the Manor prided itself on its drop-out rate (50%) instead of its retention rate. That is, it was tough. Very tough. And it had very good riders as teachers. Like Kay Meredith was right then and there on Domino competing internationally. Denny Callan had Zenith as a young horse and was getting scary high scores on him at Training or First. And Struby wasn't so bad (can't find a link but really, she was pretty good) and was riding at Prelim then with that giant horse she had (can't remember his name). And many more (forever thanks to Jeanne Vaire Dake especially). They could and did ride. And we watched them. We watched them ride and get instructed. I actually got to see Col Lundquist teach. And Herr Schmidt ride (and the little horse, Nipper, look surprised he could do it so well). And Kay and Domino would unfailingly bring tears to my eyes with every demonstration Kerr (which they don't call Kerrs anymore).
It was great because it was riding every.day. Four days under instruction an hour and a half. Four days also with your training colt which was another hour and a half of riding. And one day of show. And you changed horses every week. And you had a pool of horses so you knew some of them and some were new to you. And you rode in a group which meant you could watch how other people handled the horse you had last week, and find out whether or not you could get your horse to do something this week that he wouldn't do last week. It was great, wonderful, timely, natural feedback on how you were doing; how good you were. It was far better feedback and meant more than the grades (which were always in line with what had really happened though) and the ribbons.
It was great because we had Mrs. M once a week and she was tough.as.nails. So were the others but she was tough in a different way. It was great because I had Holly and Benson and all three of us were good and pushed each other and also helped each other and somehow weren't threatened by the other perhaps because we each had different strengths and weaknesses and we knew what they were too.
It was great. I would love to have that level of feedback although I might not could take that level of intensity again.
Different teachers, different horses, different riders, and lots of all of them -- and no guarantee of success. But every opportunity for it.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Rolinette
I rode. It was good.
Well, maybe not "good". There's much to work on. She wasn't too sticky but she was still very inconsistent and I thought, work on the head not bobbing around. I had fun. I think even she had fun. I think she missed the regular work truthfully.
And I got to talk with Lisa about it some. Not much. She doesn't talk much, really. But it was good. It was what I needed I think. Between the ride and the talk, maybe I can stop chewing this bone to death.
I love Lisa and I love Rolinette. And gawd but I love riding.
Well, maybe not "good". There's much to work on. She wasn't too sticky but she was still very inconsistent and I thought, work on the head not bobbing around. I had fun. I think even she had fun. I think she missed the regular work truthfully.
And I got to talk with Lisa about it some. Not much. She doesn't talk much, really. But it was good. It was what I needed I think. Between the ride and the talk, maybe I can stop chewing this bone to death.
I love Lisa and I love Rolinette. And gawd but I love riding.
Monday, November 23, 2009
cowgirls don’t cry, ride baby ride
I’m feeling overly dramatic. I rationally know that. Get back on. Ride.
But today I technically had the time. I hadn’t specifically gotten permission and I’m funny about that with someone else’s horse. I figure I pretty much have standing permission but I still like to get specific permission for every day I ride. I went to get her out of her stall and something didn’t feel right. Was it a real something? I don’t know. I returned the videos and went to the grocery store instead.
And then Lisa came by and asked if I’d ridden and I felt like a slacker for not having done it. I do, in some sense, feel thrown off and I know the only thing to do is to get back on and ride.
So I’m really sure I will not have time tomorrow to ride. But Wednesday I’m only doing evening chores and I’m going in in time to ride! Period. Swear.
Tonight’s turn-out was interesting in that Romeo decided to jump out of his field. Actually, they came running and he couldn’t get stopped. Wasn’t hurt. Turned them out in another field. Will have to fix that fence in the morning.
But today I technically had the time. I hadn’t specifically gotten permission and I’m funny about that with someone else’s horse. I figure I pretty much have standing permission but I still like to get specific permission for every day I ride. I went to get her out of her stall and something didn’t feel right. Was it a real something? I don’t know. I returned the videos and went to the grocery store instead.
And then Lisa came by and asked if I’d ridden and I felt like a slacker for not having done it. I do, in some sense, feel thrown off and I know the only thing to do is to get back on and ride.
So I’m really sure I will not have time tomorrow to ride. But Wednesday I’m only doing evening chores and I’m going in in time to ride! Period. Swear.
Tonight’s turn-out was interesting in that Romeo decided to jump out of his field. Actually, they came running and he couldn’t get stopped. Wasn’t hurt. Turned them out in another field. Will have to fix that fence in the morning.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Bless Me Epona
Bless me Epona for I have desired more than I could achieve.
I have so many different levels going on with this one. I am sorely disappointed in myself. I did not ride well. I did not solve the problems that the day and the horse presented. She always takes awhile to warm up BUT in the warm up she was nervous because of parking on one side of it (which didn’t affect the show arena) and I didn’t end up warming her up adequately. I opted to keep her calm and not upset by not working beside the horse eating monsters. The other option would have been to try to work her through it and that is perhaps the option I should have taken.
Or not. It is hard to tell. But I was disappointed in my ride. She was sticky with no impulsion and she was inconsistent as h*ll. The two go together in that when she moves off forward, she is more consistent.
OTOH, we got a 64.5 which ain’t bad, and placed third in our group. Seeing the video, it wasn’t so bad. Well, except for her head bobbing and her not tracking up which was exactly what the judge said. The best part of the score was that I got a 7 on rider position/effectiveness which I would always always aspire to that. And she was absolutely beautiful. And the braid was finally nice.
And everything everything about getting ready was fun. The weeks long prep, the prep this week, the working yesterday, getting there early today, shopping the used tack sale, seeing all my friends.
My children tell me that there is an entire box of ribbons in the building from the old days. And a framed thing of my blue ribbons from Meredith Manor when I won Reserve Showmaster Champion. But I won that on the strength of a choose your line jumping class where it is going for it that matters -- where I actually took my calm horse and hyped him up before going into that ring.
Sigh. Truth is, I love it. I love all of it. I love seeing people I know and have fun with do well as much as I love doing well myself.
Thank you Epona for all the blessings you have visited upon me.
I have so many different levels going on with this one. I am sorely disappointed in myself. I did not ride well. I did not solve the problems that the day and the horse presented. She always takes awhile to warm up BUT in the warm up she was nervous because of parking on one side of it (which didn’t affect the show arena) and I didn’t end up warming her up adequately. I opted to keep her calm and not upset by not working beside the horse eating monsters. The other option would have been to try to work her through it and that is perhaps the option I should have taken.
Or not. It is hard to tell. But I was disappointed in my ride. She was sticky with no impulsion and she was inconsistent as h*ll. The two go together in that when she moves off forward, she is more consistent.
OTOH, we got a 64.5 which ain’t bad, and placed third in our group. Seeing the video, it wasn’t so bad. Well, except for her head bobbing and her not tracking up which was exactly what the judge said. The best part of the score was that I got a 7 on rider position/effectiveness which I would always always aspire to that. And she was absolutely beautiful. And the braid was finally nice.
And everything everything about getting ready was fun. The weeks long prep, the prep this week, the working yesterday, getting there early today, shopping the used tack sale, seeing all my friends.
My children tell me that there is an entire box of ribbons in the building from the old days. And a framed thing of my blue ribbons from Meredith Manor when I won Reserve Showmaster Champion. But I won that on the strength of a choose your line jumping class where it is going for it that matters -- where I actually took my calm horse and hyped him up before going into that ring.
Sigh. Truth is, I love it. I love all of it. I love seeing people I know and have fun with do well as much as I love doing well myself.
Thank you Epona for all the blessings you have visited upon me.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
not the usual
Today was the rare day of being at home and being at the barn -- perfectly domestic and perfectly equestrian. I didn’t work but went in to practice braiding and to ride. The braid is getting better and Lisa showed me her technique, different than the two others I’ve tried so far (and I’ve only ever done it three times total), that will undoubtedly work even better. And the ride was good -- muddy but good. We worked most on trying to trot a straight line, halt, and get back to a trot still straight. She wants to wiggle mostly on the upward transition. We worked on relaxing while maintaining impulsion. She stretched and walked pretty nicely today. We did canter but that was not so good but that is ok -- it certainly convinced me that we were right to not to training level quite yet.
But what was soooo great about today, at the barn, was this: I got given a very hard time! Which means, to me, that I am loved and respected. I don’t need a bunch of this froufrou “oh you are so good” “oh you just rock” crap. I have my insecurities and people are welcome to tell me they are silly but I really find that cheerful “supportive” crap to be like cool whip -- fake and bad for you, not to mention insubstantial. You can’t depend on it or on the people who engage in it.
Today the farrier came by and said he’d come just to see if I could really ride. And in response Lisa said that her horse would make anybody look good. I loved it! And later, when she was inspecting my braid, she said, “It is good from here to here,” which was about the middle third and she was right but that was quite the taskmaster of her and I loved that too. I’m very pleased with where my braiding is at this point but it isn’t all the way there yet and I do want to get it there. Seeing that yes, it is good from here to here helps get me there. “Oh, that is wonderful,” won’t get me there.
The show is Saturday.
But what was soooo great about today, at the barn, was this: I got given a very hard time! Which means, to me, that I am loved and respected. I don’t need a bunch of this froufrou “oh you are so good” “oh you just rock” crap. I have my insecurities and people are welcome to tell me they are silly but I really find that cheerful “supportive” crap to be like cool whip -- fake and bad for you, not to mention insubstantial. You can’t depend on it or on the people who engage in it.
Today the farrier came by and said he’d come just to see if I could really ride. And in response Lisa said that her horse would make anybody look good. I loved it! And later, when she was inspecting my braid, she said, “It is good from here to here,” which was about the middle third and she was right but that was quite the taskmaster of her and I loved that too. I’m very pleased with where my braiding is at this point but it isn’t all the way there yet and I do want to get it there. Seeing that yes, it is good from here to here helps get me there. “Oh, that is wonderful,” won’t get me there.
The show is Saturday.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Ride, ride and ride again
Sunday was four blessed hours in the saddle on Shay . . . and in the woods right behind my house! Totally cool. I've alwaysalways wanted to explore that whole place, have a map of it in my head. So now I have a bit more of it. I am very Laissez faire when it comes to trail riding . . . and my FHF who takes me trail riding is a bit more task oriented. So I told her to just brief me before rides or whatever, what are the goals, and really, I'll be glad to do it but left to my own devices I'm perfectly happy to just be in the saddle, be in the woods, be with a friend, be.
I worked for the regular Saturday person on Saturday (she was at adult dressage camp! -- doesn't that sound cool!) and so I rode. I didn't ride as hard or as disciplined as I had planned honestly. I was helping the ladies with their patterns and a few pointers and since I am riding the same test as one of them and had hoped to ride the same test as the other, they asked me to get on while they were there. They also knew I'd begun cantering Rolinette and wanted to see what it looked like. So I got her out and only did a fairly quick warm-up. She's not the most relaxed horse in the world anyway, and particularly not at the "scary end" of the arena, but what the heck, we went for it. First I rode Intro B and while there are things to work on, it wasn't bad. Straightness on entry. Need to work on that transition from halt to trot without getting crooked or tense. Bend. Bend. Bend. Good impulsion at the walk. Some relaxation at the trot (while still having that engine hopefully, and not being behind the bit). Anyway.
So on a lark I said, heck, I'm going to get her to pick up canter once in each direction and then we'll ride T2! We did and we did. And it was fun. Maybe not pretty but fun. It'll be there in the spring.
Monday we worked much more regularly and harder and also did both tests and had fun. I'll hope to get two more rides in before the show on Saturday.
I worked for the regular Saturday person on Saturday (she was at adult dressage camp! -- doesn't that sound cool!) and so I rode. I didn't ride as hard or as disciplined as I had planned honestly. I was helping the ladies with their patterns and a few pointers and since I am riding the same test as one of them and had hoped to ride the same test as the other, they asked me to get on while they were there. They also knew I'd begun cantering Rolinette and wanted to see what it looked like. So I got her out and only did a fairly quick warm-up. She's not the most relaxed horse in the world anyway, and particularly not at the "scary end" of the arena, but what the heck, we went for it. First I rode Intro B and while there are things to work on, it wasn't bad. Straightness on entry. Need to work on that transition from halt to trot without getting crooked or tense. Bend. Bend. Bend. Good impulsion at the walk. Some relaxation at the trot (while still having that engine hopefully, and not being behind the bit). Anyway.
So on a lark I said, heck, I'm going to get her to pick up canter once in each direction and then we'll ride T2! We did and we did. And it was fun. Maybe not pretty but fun. It'll be there in the spring.
Monday we worked much more regularly and harder and also did both tests and had fun. I'll hope to get two more rides in before the show on Saturday.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Ride and ride
I'm behind. In more ways than one.
So, I missed a week of work and riding with the flu. I needed the rest honestly. I went back Monday and was ready. I'd missed the barn. Wednesday we had an interesting case of colic -- a cribber mare who got a new and effective stop-cribbing collar and she colicked from the frustration of not being able to crib. At least that's the theory. That's my gut on it. She'd get over it, given time. Like a smoker. Like an alcoholic in DTs. If she didn't die first of of course. That was after a day of both the farrier and the vet at the barn, and getting sawdust after being out which meant I bedded almost every single stall. So it was a long day. But fun.
So I didn't ride on Wednesday, which I knew I wouldn't before it even started. I did ride, just a tad, on Monday. Almost only enough to introduce Rolinette back to the saddle, and me back to the saddle. Tuesday I rode with a bit more gusto. Lisa was still at the barn and came out because she wanted to be there the first time we cantered. We also discussed which test I would ride in next week's schooling show, deciding to do Intro B instead of Training 2. It's the canter thing. I've no doubt that Rolinette and I could DO T2 but also no doubt that we could not do it well. We're still working on just getting her consistent in the bridle and moving forward with relaxation so . . . Intro B is entirely appropriate. We'll set our sights on doing Training by spring.
So Tuesday we did our usual walk, contract, stretch warm up, and trotted a bit. Then I rode Intro B with Lisa watching and she gave me pointers. Like prepare for that turn down center line! Not that I don't know to do that but even knowing sometimes it just doesn't happen! Like acknowledging that I'm either going to get knocked for not enough impulsion at the free walk or not enough relaxation and stretch so go for the impulsion. Sit back sit backsitback!
Then we cantered! LOL! She was very good responding to the cue. Me, unpracticed. She likes right, she hates left, so we did right first and she did great. It felt somewhat jerky but not too bad and I didn't feel too bad to me (gawd knows what I looked like). Then we went left and it took us three tries to get the correct lead and it was much, much rougher. But it was like that on the lunge line too. I don't think this horse canters ever on her own because two circles in each direction and she was huffing and puffing. Of course, so was I.
Ah, but she is so beautiful and I'm having so much fun with her!
ok, so work on transitions, work on relaxation and forwardness, work on accuracy of the test. And sit back.
So, I missed a week of work and riding with the flu. I needed the rest honestly. I went back Monday and was ready. I'd missed the barn. Wednesday we had an interesting case of colic -- a cribber mare who got a new and effective stop-cribbing collar and she colicked from the frustration of not being able to crib. At least that's the theory. That's my gut on it. She'd get over it, given time. Like a smoker. Like an alcoholic in DTs. If she didn't die first of of course. That was after a day of both the farrier and the vet at the barn, and getting sawdust after being out which meant I bedded almost every single stall. So it was a long day. But fun.
So I didn't ride on Wednesday, which I knew I wouldn't before it even started. I did ride, just a tad, on Monday. Almost only enough to introduce Rolinette back to the saddle, and me back to the saddle. Tuesday I rode with a bit more gusto. Lisa was still at the barn and came out because she wanted to be there the first time we cantered. We also discussed which test I would ride in next week's schooling show, deciding to do Intro B instead of Training 2. It's the canter thing. I've no doubt that Rolinette and I could DO T2 but also no doubt that we could not do it well. We're still working on just getting her consistent in the bridle and moving forward with relaxation so . . . Intro B is entirely appropriate. We'll set our sights on doing Training by spring.
So Tuesday we did our usual walk, contract, stretch warm up, and trotted a bit. Then I rode Intro B with Lisa watching and she gave me pointers. Like prepare for that turn down center line! Not that I don't know to do that but even knowing sometimes it just doesn't happen! Like acknowledging that I'm either going to get knocked for not enough impulsion at the free walk or not enough relaxation and stretch so go for the impulsion. Sit back sit backsitback!
Then we cantered! LOL! She was very good responding to the cue. Me, unpracticed. She likes right, she hates left, so we did right first and she did great. It felt somewhat jerky but not too bad and I didn't feel too bad to me (gawd knows what I looked like). Then we went left and it took us three tries to get the correct lead and it was much, much rougher. But it was like that on the lunge line too. I don't think this horse canters ever on her own because two circles in each direction and she was huffing and puffing. Of course, so was I.
Ah, but she is so beautiful and I'm having so much fun with her!
ok, so work on transitions, work on relaxation and forwardness, work on accuracy of the test. And sit back.
Friday, October 30, 2009
No & no
No, I did not go in to ride Rol. And no, I did not go in to ride Bart for Andre.
Sigh. I feel like some slacker, which is something I haven't felt like in quite some time. But I'll be better enough by Monday to go in and work. And work Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday is library day and Friday maybe a trail ride and work Saturday and if I'm not careful I'll be sick again because except for Friday there is no rest. And then the 14th is the show and what test will I ride in that?
And I don't feel much like I'm working it out all that well right now.
My teeth hurt. That's the hopefully last symptom of this damned flu. I need to re-make my peace with doing the dishes.
On the good side, Lisa got to ride Bart in the lesson hopefully and that thought makes me smile.
Sigh. I feel like some slacker, which is something I haven't felt like in quite some time. But I'll be better enough by Monday to go in and work. And work Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday is library day and Friday maybe a trail ride and work Saturday and if I'm not careful I'll be sick again because except for Friday there is no rest. And then the 14th is the show and what test will I ride in that?
And I don't feel much like I'm working it out all that well right now.
My teeth hurt. That's the hopefully last symptom of this damned flu. I need to re-make my peace with doing the dishes.
On the good side, Lisa got to ride Bart in the lesson hopefully and that thought makes me smile.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Laid Low
TMI: it started with a cough that wasn’t from sinus. Progressed to fever and aches with more cough. More fever. Then my head exploded, a big gaping red hole over my left ear and eye that I had to keep a pillow pressed into to keep everything in there from leaking out. The fact that I was freezing was also helping to keep it from leaking out. When the worst of that pain lessened and moved to the back then the other side of my head, then I got hot, burning hot, and puked nothing but bile. Four times. In the middle of the second night my kidneys felt like they were cutting their way out of my back. Daybreak was the first sign I’d had that I might actually get better at some point in the distant future. Now I am just sick - hacking and sneezing and blowing and aching - not dying anymore, and maybe even gradually getting better.
October has been a month of horse opportunity for me. I’ve gotten to ride Rolinette regularly, work at a big horse show, trail ride, be in the fun show with the girls, and even to ride Bart in a lesson with Andre.
I simply cannot do this much, stress this much (even when it is good and pleasant stress), go this much. When the kids were small and I was strictly a SAHM, I seriously tried to never “do” more then two things in a week - generally no more than two trips to town for any reason in a week’s time. We didn’t pick this life out here in the sticks in order to go go go all the time. We’ve always felt that time spent here, with each other, doing simple things like eating home cooked meals together, would be how we defined success. A long long time ago I figured out that the pace of my life needed to be slow . . . if it wasn’t slow, I made mistakes. If the pace of one's life is too fast, one misses things.
Ah, but horses. My chance with horses. When I first got Duke, it became obvious to me that I simply breathe better with horses than without horses. When I got the barn job, it became obvious to me that I was happier still with those horses and those horse people in my life. And with the barn job, I always wanted and hoped for more opportunity - to ride, to teach, to do anything responsible and horse-y. And I got it and I did it and I got sick from doing too much too much.
Oh, I’m not saying I could entirely avoid the flu virus if I didn’t do too much: I’m just saying that its part of it, it feeds into it. Everything is connected. There are no coincidences. What I’m saying is, I’m paying attention. I acknowledge.
I have to figure out how to do it all AND slow down. Does that sound crazy? I don’t think it is crazy though. Part of slowing down is just being aware to hear the slow beat of the cow chewing her cud - be aware of that and keep that as the bass beat of my life. Part of it is knowing that saying yes to everything is not how one does it all. I have to be more present in all of it - at home, at rest, at the avocation.
Lisa says for me to come ride Friday for Andre anyway, and I will if I feel like it, no prep rides notwithstanding. If I feel like it, I’ll go in on Thursday and ride Rolinette because otherwise we’re going to have to go intro in the November schooling show instead of training. But Saturday, Halloween, and making sure all on the farm is ready for Halloween, that’s all family.
************
Just to keep all rides on here too, I did ride Rolinette last Friday and Saturday, neither strenuously but both adequately. Friday was mostly a tune-up for the show coming up and we trotted the entire arena and she and my daughter schooled the trail class, and my other daughter and a different horse had costume fittings.
Saturday was the fun show. Husband actually decided to come even though I had rather encouraged him to just stay home. These sorts of standing around and waiting things drive him batty. But we walked in and very soon daughter did the trail class since you could do it at any time. Lisa had suggested that I take Rolinette in the arena during a schooling break but that would have meant tacking her up very early and . . . well, I just don't like overdoing the schooling. Some horses need more than others, true. I think Lisa still thinks I should have done that as she commented that Rolinette was "tense" "without any warm-up at all". Well, she was somewhat tense in the scarey end of the arena where there had recently been killer cows on the other side of the fence but I'd schooled that two days already with just minimal improvement. I could make her do it but to do that just made her more tense, not less. And I did warm her up, just in the other arena . . . and then we did stand and wait for the class. Anyway, I thought she did well. It is funny in that I realized I'm actually less nervous for competition than for lessons. We got a third in our class . . . and I was so proud of Dianne that she and Adonis beat us! Daughter in trail got a fourth (in a very big class), and daughter in costume got a medal, and we all got to go home where I then realized I was getting sick. There ya have it.
October has been a month of horse opportunity for me. I’ve gotten to ride Rolinette regularly, work at a big horse show, trail ride, be in the fun show with the girls, and even to ride Bart in a lesson with Andre.
I simply cannot do this much, stress this much (even when it is good and pleasant stress), go this much. When the kids were small and I was strictly a SAHM, I seriously tried to never “do” more then two things in a week - generally no more than two trips to town for any reason in a week’s time. We didn’t pick this life out here in the sticks in order to go go go all the time. We’ve always felt that time spent here, with each other, doing simple things like eating home cooked meals together, would be how we defined success. A long long time ago I figured out that the pace of my life needed to be slow . . . if it wasn’t slow, I made mistakes. If the pace of one's life is too fast, one misses things.
Ah, but horses. My chance with horses. When I first got Duke, it became obvious to me that I simply breathe better with horses than without horses. When I got the barn job, it became obvious to me that I was happier still with those horses and those horse people in my life. And with the barn job, I always wanted and hoped for more opportunity - to ride, to teach, to do anything responsible and horse-y. And I got it and I did it and I got sick from doing too much too much.
Oh, I’m not saying I could entirely avoid the flu virus if I didn’t do too much: I’m just saying that its part of it, it feeds into it. Everything is connected. There are no coincidences. What I’m saying is, I’m paying attention. I acknowledge.
I have to figure out how to do it all AND slow down. Does that sound crazy? I don’t think it is crazy though. Part of slowing down is just being aware to hear the slow beat of the cow chewing her cud - be aware of that and keep that as the bass beat of my life. Part of it is knowing that saying yes to everything is not how one does it all. I have to be more present in all of it - at home, at rest, at the avocation.
Lisa says for me to come ride Friday for Andre anyway, and I will if I feel like it, no prep rides notwithstanding. If I feel like it, I’ll go in on Thursday and ride Rolinette because otherwise we’re going to have to go intro in the November schooling show instead of training. But Saturday, Halloween, and making sure all on the farm is ready for Halloween, that’s all family.
************
Just to keep all rides on here too, I did ride Rolinette last Friday and Saturday, neither strenuously but both adequately. Friday was mostly a tune-up for the show coming up and we trotted the entire arena and she and my daughter schooled the trail class, and my other daughter and a different horse had costume fittings.
Saturday was the fun show. Husband actually decided to come even though I had rather encouraged him to just stay home. These sorts of standing around and waiting things drive him batty. But we walked in and very soon daughter did the trail class since you could do it at any time. Lisa had suggested that I take Rolinette in the arena during a schooling break but that would have meant tacking her up very early and . . . well, I just don't like overdoing the schooling. Some horses need more than others, true. I think Lisa still thinks I should have done that as she commented that Rolinette was "tense" "without any warm-up at all". Well, she was somewhat tense in the scarey end of the arena where there had recently been killer cows on the other side of the fence but I'd schooled that two days already with just minimal improvement. I could make her do it but to do that just made her more tense, not less. And I did warm her up, just in the other arena . . . and then we did stand and wait for the class. Anyway, I thought she did well. It is funny in that I realized I'm actually less nervous for competition than for lessons. We got a third in our class . . . and I was so proud of Dianne that she and Adonis beat us! Daughter in trail got a fourth (in a very big class), and daughter in costume got a medal, and we all got to go home where I then realized I was getting sick. There ya have it.
