Memories, Changes, and Extreme Makeovers

Coherence is not my strong suit these days, so this will be a bit impressionistic.  Lots of little dabs.  Maybe a sort of overall picture.

Much remembrance of Katherine Lawrence, who died on March 25th last year.  It's a hard anniversary but I like to think she left a legacy of restored friendships, many of them on lj.  Damn you, Kath, but thank you, too.  You couldn't keep your own bridge from falling down, but you built so many others that are still holding on.

Rewrite From Hell is done.  Heck with the title Production thinks it has.  Its truename is Song of Extreme Makeover.  19 all-new chapters.  40,000 new words.  Much much recasting and rewriting of the rest.  No wonder it took five weeks of straight nose-down blitz.  Either it rocks or it sucks rocks.  I'm too far gone to tell.  Last time I did a rewrite this size was in 1988.

It taught me a lot about writing modern serial fiction.  Never did before.  Separate books with shared characters are not the same thing.  At all.

Also, it was made very clear to me what the real dynamic of the series is, versus what I thought it was.  I get it now.  Really.

Personnel change at DHF.  The short form is, Pandora and the lady who bought her are not a match.  (Not even close.)  Carrma has been demanding a job.  Loudly.  By way of experimentation, during lessons last week, I told S to give Carrma a try.

We call it the McCaffrey Moment.  The eyes swirl, the humming rises, the click is heard six states away.  Rider develops huge sloppy grin.  Horse gets all soft and white and puddly.  It was the first time Joni had seen it on the hoof, so to speak, and she was blown away.  There is nothing like it outside of a Pern novel.

Carrma has found her human.  And I can finally confess that so has Pandora.  We closed the deal on Friday.  Carrma is moving half an hour east of here to live with a herd of Ayrabs, be a trail pony, and make some more babies for her new human.  Pandora gets to stay here and make Pooklets and be a guest horse.

So I, the ultimate short-horse fanatic, am now the owner of a 16-hand Lipizzan.  Who is Just The Right Size.  Go figure.  And Carrma is now the owner of the human version of herself.  They are adorable together.  As for how they feel about each other, anybody who has seen Pook with me knows what it looks like.

These are not horses.  They arranged it themselves.  Now Pandora no longer has the wrong human trying to claim her, the hatred has gone away.  She's perfectly civil to the person she was freaking out next to (and that much freakout is very impressive indeed).  I'm relieved that I can stop holding back around her.  When it's a My Lipizzan and it belongs to someone else, it's difficult.  She is the cutest thing in a Baby Huey sort of way.  Whickers when she sees me.  Wraps her great big head around me and snuggles.  You may all join the chorus: Awwwwwww.

Or, Why standard horse wisdom does not work with Space Aliens.  If they don't pick you, really, forget it.  Carrma has been happy here, has been an excellent partner and has given me beautiful foals, but she's earned her own human and now she's found it.  I'm delighted for her.  Will miss her terribly but this is a very right thing.

Next spring, if all goes well, DHF will have a full-Lipp Pooklet.  Bounce!  And Carrma finally gets to make that Conversano Mima baby we've been waiting for so long.  That's the kind of cross that sends shivers down the breeder's back--I'm betting it's gold.  Mima is the stallion I would want to own if I didn't have Pook.   And  Carrma is exactly the type and bloodlines he was selected for--he's a handpicked import to White Horse Vale, a SRS dropout.

Of cuss this means some fairly major paradigm shifts.  I was not expecting to breed any mares on the farm this year, and 16 hands of Lipp mare (the vet goes up to the armpit in her and then has to push the ultrasound sensor ahead with his fingertips--she's got the mass of a much larger horse, like all Lipps) plus 14.2 hands of stallion may mean nature will need some help.  And the budget surely will, as AI costs the earth.  But we'll see if they can manage it between them first.  He'll let us know if it isn't working.  He's good that way, as lynnesite  can attest.

Part of the deal also is transport to the spa for Pook throughout the season, so the fact I can't afford a truck right now is no longer a matter for panic.  The  Mother Ship, as always, has provided.  Pooka's ladies will get their boy-in-a-box.

I'll still very much be a part of Carrma's life--will be helping with the breeding and all, and of course will visit her.  She's family.  She'll be going to her new home probably on Friday.

All of which is a very good omen for the farm.  Last year I tried to breed a second FB filly out of one of Cele's mares, and she had a colt.  Now here I am with a fully grown mare all ready to go.  All hail the Mother Ship.

Ephiny btw is in no distress over having a sister-rival.  She wishes I would let her have her boy now, and she has to wait because she really is not mature enough to grow a baby as well as herself, but life in general, she says, is just fine.  She loves her Pooka and she knows she'll get him in the end.

She looks quite tiny next to the new girl in town.  But she'll grow.

And of course we must have Neep.  Amid the big fat grins about the new matchup, I had a superlative lesson on Capria.  Working on that outside-aids thing again, and adding in the whole spectrum of the seat (with thigh)--riding changes of bend and transitions so that they were perfectly smooth and balanced.  Big deal for us as we've always had connection problems (I drop  the contact badly).  Capria can be a llama, drops her back and throws up her head and rushes big time.  All she wants is perfect aids, dammit.

When it's right, she comes completely in front of the leg and floats.  Totally different feeling from the hand-to-spur riding that's so common.  All the work is in the abs and thighs.  Everything else is soft and floaty and light.  Like hanging open in space, and the horse is floating along underneath with the front end 'way up and the back end 'way down and powering on.

At the end, we were working on canter and I was losing it.  We got a sort of approximation and were ready to stop, but she refused.  She insisted that we go one more time.  And I had to do it right.  Then she would stop.

Yes, she took control of the lesson.  Usually that's a Pooka trick.  Apparently she's decided it's time to take matters  into her own hooves.

But hey.  It worked.  Joni laughed and said "Only a Lipizzan."  It's the hardwiring.  They know what's right and that's all there is to it.