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dancinghorseI'm all jangly and weird lately--can't seem to get anything done, though I run in a lot of circles. Horse blankets are nearly all cleaned and ready to put away. House is clean. Horses are ridden or worked according to the roster. Proofs are done thank the Lord God Almighty, done done DONE! (Have I mentioned that I hate, and I mean hate, reading proofs? And I have had two sets to do in the past two weeks?) And now I can't sleep. Post-proof wired brain. I look forward with enormous relief to getting back to writing pages.
Today was a lot cooler than it's been in a while, and so windy a stack of 120lb hay bales, five high, got blown over--luckily not within reach of the horses, even keed of the incredible telescoping neck. Two of the corral shelters wanted to head for Oz but were stymied by their moorings--but they gave it their best shot.
Even so, I was able to ride; Lipizzans sneer at mere earthly weather. Capria and I practiced Finding Holes in Her Schooling, which is always a humbling experience (because those holes are my fault). We were accordioning in walk--not bad--and trot: rushy and fussy. Meaning she has never had enough support from me to carry herself. It's getting better but she says it still needs improvement.
While I was getting her ready to mount, I realized that Carrma was shadowing her. Then I realized that Carrma was a stalking horse. Camilla was using her as a blind, to get in close to Capria and either convince me to ride Her instead, or feed her cookies, or both.
Trust the War Mare to resort to a perfectly decent bit of military strategy.
Capria was not fooled. She scared Carrma off and made snaky faces at Camilla. Camilla was Annoyed. A beautiful plan--foiled again by that nasty bitchy mare she has to share Her Personal Private Human with teethgrind backhunch earflatten badword
Following this drama and the usual dinner excitement (I put hay in tubs, then they all run in to their individual dinners while I run behind them, closing gates), I brought da Pook out for a ride. We were both ready for a change, so I opted to ride Out rather than in. This still a big deal for Mr. Greenbean, and I discovered that's where my posttraumatic jitters went. Arena, no problem. Ride Out, Oy.
However he was soft-eyed and relaxed to start with, and didn't even want a warmup. He was lovely out on the road. Did his first real hill, which confused him a bit. "But Mom! The ground is crooked!" Going up was OK. Coming down, he ran into the on-the-forehand allergy that young Lipps are prone to, and wanted to get rushy. He learned about keeping the butt in gear and going down in a walk.
He's a European. He wants to go on the left side of the road. I had a little trouble convincing him to stay on the right.
Otherwise he was relaxed and mellow and enjoying himself. We moseyed here and there, right up until dusk.
Then on the way in to get his saddle off, he eeked at the fallen hay bales, backed into the metal ladder on the ground by the feed bins, careened off the manure cart, and had a minor meltdown. Bless two solid years of ongoing groundwork and trust training, he did not blow his curly little lid, he stayed close to me without running me over, and he allowed me to explain the ladder, the cart, and the bales. Then he went to get his saddle off, without more than a small bit of runrealfastmom through a gate.
Big adventures for the Studmuffin tonight. All the work is paying off. At the point when I finally (kicking and screaming) gave up on the idea that the farm stallion should be trained and shown by someone a whole lot more skilled than his distinctly amateur and not very talented owner, because talent or no talent, he didn't want anybody on his precious back but me, I also gave in to his variation on the Force. Or to put it more gnomically, if you've landed a total one-woman horse, ride with it. As long as he lets select friends handle him, is perfectly behaved for the shoer, and tolerates the vet (and he's the chiro's favorite horse in the world), what more does he need? After all.
We even look good as a pair. Slender, elegant Joni would look a bit odd on him, but I go right along with Mr. Short Fat and Handsome. All I need to do is learn how ride him well enough to suit him, and we're in business.
Today was a lot cooler than it's been in a while, and so windy a stack of 120lb hay bales, five high, got blown over--luckily not within reach of the horses, even keed of the incredible telescoping neck. Two of the corral shelters wanted to head for Oz but were stymied by their moorings--but they gave it their best shot.
Even so, I was able to ride; Lipizzans sneer at mere earthly weather. Capria and I practiced Finding Holes in Her Schooling, which is always a humbling experience (because those holes are my fault). We were accordioning in walk--not bad--and trot: rushy and fussy. Meaning she has never had enough support from me to carry herself. It's getting better but she says it still needs improvement.
While I was getting her ready to mount, I realized that Carrma was shadowing her. Then I realized that Carrma was a stalking horse. Camilla was using her as a blind, to get in close to Capria and either convince me to ride Her instead, or feed her cookies, or both.
Trust the War Mare to resort to a perfectly decent bit of military strategy.
Capria was not fooled. She scared Carrma off and made snaky faces at Camilla. Camilla was Annoyed. A beautiful plan--foiled again by that nasty bitchy mare she has to share Her Personal Private Human with teethgrind backhunch earflatten badword
Following this drama and the usual dinner excitement (I put hay in tubs, then they all run in to their individual dinners while I run behind them, closing gates), I brought da Pook out for a ride. We were both ready for a change, so I opted to ride Out rather than in. This still a big deal for Mr. Greenbean, and I discovered that's where my posttraumatic jitters went. Arena, no problem. Ride Out, Oy.
However he was soft-eyed and relaxed to start with, and didn't even want a warmup. He was lovely out on the road. Did his first real hill, which confused him a bit. "But Mom! The ground is crooked!" Going up was OK. Coming down, he ran into the on-the-forehand allergy that young Lipps are prone to, and wanted to get rushy. He learned about keeping the butt in gear and going down in a walk.
He's a European. He wants to go on the left side of the road. I had a little trouble convincing him to stay on the right.
Otherwise he was relaxed and mellow and enjoying himself. We moseyed here and there, right up until dusk.
Then on the way in to get his saddle off, he eeked at the fallen hay bales, backed into the metal ladder on the ground by the feed bins, careened off the manure cart, and had a minor meltdown. Bless two solid years of ongoing groundwork and trust training, he did not blow his curly little lid, he stayed close to me without running me over, and he allowed me to explain the ladder, the cart, and the bales. Then he went to get his saddle off, without more than a small bit of runrealfastmom through a gate.
Big adventures for the Studmuffin tonight. All the work is paying off. At the point when I finally (kicking and screaming) gave up on the idea that the farm stallion should be trained and shown by someone a whole lot more skilled than his distinctly amateur and not very talented owner, because talent or no talent, he didn't want anybody on his precious back but me, I also gave in to his variation on the Force. Or to put it more gnomically, if you've landed a total one-woman horse, ride with it. As long as he lets select friends handle him, is perfectly behaved for the shoer, and tolerates the vet (and he's the chiro's favorite horse in the world), what more does he need? After all.
We even look good as a pair. Slender, elegant Joni would look a bit odd on him, but I go right along with Mr. Short Fat and Handsome. All I need to do is learn how ride him well enough to suit him, and we're in business.
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Date: 2004-06-10 04:47 pm (UTC)January is certainly a good time to visit Tucson. :)