Thursday, December 20, 2012

This Little Piggy

This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy was all jacked up and had to have surgery which leaves me in the Frankenboot for 4 lousy weeks and now I’m mad at the world.
This little piggy cried wah wah wah all the way home.

One of these things is not like the other . . . Actually, several things are broken but we'll start with the toes.

Day one I was already bored. Day three and I’m gouging my eyes out with a dull spork. I know it could be worse and I know there are people with much bigger woes out there than me (especially in CT), so I’m dishing out a big helping of Suck It Up and use this time to reflect on the change I wish to become:

#1 – Let go of the stupid left rein. Period.
Just one more pull is not going to fix anything.

#2 – More seat, more seat, more seat. Less hand, less hand, less hand.

#3 – Patience, grasshopper. Change takes time.
The lotus must start from the seed and take the sun and moon each in turn while looking to the sky for delicate drops of nature’s tears . . .

blah blah blah

#4 – Oh yeah, stop looking at anything larger than 3’7” like its only purpose in life is to squash me like a gnat. Seriously, that’s, like, a warm-up fence for the jumper people and most horses can do it from a trot. 

Is it 4 weeks yet?

Well, here's a little entertainment to help everyone pass the time. Good stuff (If the embedded video gives an error just press the hyperlink, it's worth it):

And here's how Otie is passing the time:

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Rolex (Okay, not Rolex but it felt like it)

Righty tighty, lefty loosie.

Loosie? Loosey. Loosee? To make loose.

Note to self – when the guys at the trailer shop are doing your annual service, tell them NOT to use the hydraulic doobaflotchy thing when putting the tires back on. I look like an idiot jumping up and down on the lug wrench by the side of the road.

However, a flat tire on the way to Pine Top apparently brought fabulous karma for the weekend.

Dressage was bellisimo and we hung out in 1st place until the last rider nudged me out by 0.9. Even if it was short lived my name was listed first on live scoring. It felt like going to the prom with the popular guy, or getting asked for ID on your 30th birthday, or finding out that broken cookies really don’t have calories. It was . . . ahhhhhh.

Where’s the paparazzi? Where’s the Chariots of Fire music in the background? Where’s the celebratory grog? (oh, the grog is in the cooler. Never mind).

And just like that, it was over.

“Ma’am, you’ll have to step off to the side, you’re not in 1st any more. Yes, that means now. No we’re not going to do a recount. Ma’am, you’re just embarrassing yourself, please.  Ma’am, LET GO of the podium! ”

Better to have loved and lost, blah blah blah.

Stadium was . . . interesting.
I think we go left here

 Cool morning + bucking horse + who’s steering this ship? = 2 rails.

But XC.  Holy mother of pearl, Batman, did I wake up at Rolex?  Your Honor, may I present Exhibit A:
As a matter of fact I would like a drink

And B:
Say what?

And C:
I think I'll take the escalator, but thanks anyway
But D?:

Before . . . 

Your Honor, the prosecution rests. 

We might have had a bit of swag walking back to stabling. It was Rolex, after all. And 4th place sure tasted like victory. 

Friday, September 28, 2012

Introducing Otie!

Life is full of oddities.

Like why we park in a driveway but drive on a parkway, or why we buy a pair of panties, or why we turn the radio volume down when we’re looking for an address.

And why we buy the horse that fell on us.

Don’t adjust the TV, you heard me correctly. I bought . . . the horse . . . that fell on me.

#1 – It was not his fault (as previously described)

#2 – It kind of bonds us together, doesn’t it?

#3 – Wait till you see the video

He was bred by my BO/BFF and her longtime dear BFF to be dear BFF’s next dressage horse. He was born, he grew, got backed (and very well, whoever did that) and then he was left to grow some more.

Through a very strange turn of events - a death, an executor of the estate, a girl in love (me), and lots of phone calls I bought this lovely animal. He does have a condition that may or not be an issue in the future, but it was a leap of faith I was willing to take.

He’s got about 3 months of formal education now and learning every day. Even though he’s 6, it’s like seeing the world through the eyes of a toddler every time I’m on him. “Mom! Mom! What’s that? Mom! What’re we doing now?” “Mom! I gotta PEE!!!”

Remember that kid in school that raised his hand all the time? You’d think “put your hand down, you don’t even know the answer”. But he just wanted to try.

Otie is that kid.

He’s 17 hands of try. 17 hands of “I have no idea how big I am”. 17 hands of “Sorry I lost my balance. Again”

17 hands of all mine.

I’m taking his education really slowly, letting him grow building blocks in his mind. To ruin this beautiful creature with a rush to centerline would be a travesty.

I don’t know how far we’ll go, but if we make it to the top I promise to take you all with me.

 (forgive the video job. It was my first attempt at iMovie)