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)

Beat the Confidence Monster But Took a Stupid Pill

What was I thinking? Seriously.

What on God's Green Earth was going through my head when I set out on XC in the North Carolina heat slash humidity with bare hands? I've done plenty of stupid things in my life (trust me, plenty) but that ranks right on up there.  No gloves? Honestly, Jennifer (as my dearly departed mom used to say).

I started to realize I was an ignoramus in warm-up. By the time I reached the 3rd fence I was chasing greased piglets through my fingers, by the 5th fence they were buttered noodles. Coby is a very strong horse XC and I have to have a constant feel of the bit to come to an agreement, kind of like letting steam through a pressure cooker. Each time I chased the wet herrings in my hands he took off like a rocket.

But, as they say, it is what one does when things aren't going well that defines you; and if trying times build character then I built one hell of a lot of it on September 8, 2012. For example:

My dressage trainer says that the 20 meter circle benefits everyone, so I maybe did a few on course (just to make her proud. Ahem.). I did think about pulling up when I was struggling so much with the reins but the circles got him back (though only nearly after he locked onto this Intermediate table) and I'm just so damned stubborn. In hindsight should I have pulled up? Probably. But I lived with my decision and tried to make chicken salad out of chicken shit. Ended up with a heaping pile of time faults and a very questionable stop at the drop into the water.

Experience is what you get 10 minutes after you needed it.

However, redemption on day 2:

I took the liberty of calculating that every rider in my division could knock down every rail and I would still be dead last. Sigh. Worst part is we were in 2nd place after dressage. Life's lessons have to be swallowed with a large slice of humility pie.

Mmmm, delicious.

Battling the Confidence Monster

I loath him.

I despise him.

He’s an evil, sneaky, beady-eyed beast that lives in every nook and cranny of your mind.  He’s 50, 100 years old. He makes the villagers pick up pitchforks and torches and march the square stomping and yelling; “Burn him!” “Tear him from limb to limb!” “Run him to the woods!”

He’s patient. He’s persistent. He sits and waits for the perfect chance to rattle your brain with thoughts of fear and doubt. He listens for you to fall asleep the night before a show and then whispers boo in your ear. Not loud, not even loud enough for anyone else to hear, just barely loud enough to wake you up and question your sanity . . . again.

He hides behind the Swedish oxer and under the Trakhener. He lays flat in the bottom of the beginner novice ditch. In fact, legend says every time a rider stares into a ditch he grows another horn.  He lifts the Novice coop just a wee bit higher, and the Prelim drop just a tad steeper. No level or course is safe from this gremlin. He feeds off the self-doubt that comes after a fall or a refusal (but falls are his favorite).

This weekend I will battle that monster.

I will arm myself with the pure thoughts of success and completion, and put the memories of my fall behind me. I will defend against his attacks with confidence and zest and really, really, really good coaching. I will, perhaps, take a swill of grog on the battlefield. 

And when he calls, I will say “Sorry, I believe you have the wrong number”.

And that will make me smile.

All dressed up and no place to go.

Ups and Downs and a new logo

The Ups:

Longleaf Pines Horse Trials was such a blast. I'm very late posting about it, but . . . (insert lame excuse here). It was just my 2nd Prelim and it made me feel like Xena, Warrior Princess. Coby was, as usual, a XC machine. He is such a confidence builder. He gets so excited for the course that I almost can't get him in the start box for all of his frat-boy antics. The entire show went really well. We understand each other so much better now and we went around like champs. Just a couple seconds behind time to add 2.4 points to our dressage.

Sailing over the oxer

Corner? No problem.

The Downs:

It's been nearly 4 weeks since the crash. I was wondering why I was still having so much pain in my foot so I asked one of the podiatrists to take a peek at it under the mini c-arm machine at work. It turns out it is broken in 4 places instead of the originally thought 2. My 2nd, 3rd, and possibly 4th metatarsal heads are cracked like little dominos in a line. It doesn't really change anything, but it sure explains the pain. I was so looking forward to our run at Full Gallop a couple of weeks ago, now I have my sights set on the end of August for a trip to Aiken.

Life is full of surprises: the good ones, the bad ones, the ones that make you scratch your head and go "huh?" I have to admit I'm losing my sense of humor over this whole thing. That woman left the scene not knowing if I was dead or alive. That saddens me. In a time when movies about torture and glorified violence pass as entertainment, when parents are afraid to let their kids play at the park, when global warming is old news next to global bombing, and when "smart" cars would lose a fair fight to a tricycle, I cling to the one thing that should endure all: human kindness. Caring enough to help an old lady load her groceries, letting someone else take the last space in the elevator, giving an honest smile to someone that just needs to know they're not alone.

It's a dog eat dog world out there. Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a Milk-Bone bra.

The Logo:

But enough postulating. May I now proudly present (bum-de-de-bum!) the new logo:

Don't you just love it!!!!!!

More soon.

House going up and Horse going down . . .

Q: What do you get when you cross an insomniac, an agnostic, and a dyslexic?
A: A guy that stays up all night wondering if there really is a Dog.



House going up:

It is really taking shape. Hard to believe we'll be moving in before the Summer is over, then the real work starts. Building a house is easy, building a home takes a little more work. If you ask me, its the work that makes it special.

The Hardyplank comes out of the box that color, it hasn't been painted yet.

Horse going down:

They'll give just about anybody a driver's license apparently. Last Monday I went for a hack on a big beautiful warmblood that's at the barn deciding what he wants to be when he grows up. Kris (barn owner and dear friend) came with me on her horse. In the short distance that we had to walk on the grass along the road some crazy woman driver came speeding up behind us in a very loud pickup truck.  Having someplace of utmost importance to be she did not find the need to slow down AT ALL. Horse spooked, horse fell, horse landed on Jen.

We unfortunately landed on the pavement. The sound of that helmet hitting the road was a sound I won't forget. My first thought was "Oh my God, I'm still alive", my second thought was "Oh my God, get this horse off of me".

Bought myself a ride on an ambulance and found out just how uncomfortable those backboards really are. But I came out pretty good: left foot broken in 2 places, poor little dislocated toe, and a hairline fracture of the left hip. Considering he landed right on me and rolled off the top, I think I did okay.

Take home message : ALWAYS WEAR A HELMET!!! I would have been roadkill had I not been wearing one. Well, roadkill or maybe a veggie-for-life eating strained prunes and wearing depends.

As I type this I should be in Aiken at the Full Gallop Horse Trials competing Coby on their amazing Prelim course. So disappointing. I forever cling to the thought that things happen for a reason. Maybe that woman learned a valuable lesson about road safety, and maybe that lesson will keep her from killing someone later on. Maybe I wasn't supposed to go to Aiken for some forever unknown reason. And maybe crap just happens. *shrug*.

Well, as they say in the big tent - just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming.

House update #3

Gaaahhh! The completion date has gone from December, to November, to October and now to September. Apparently the weather is cooperating or Saturn and Jupiter are in alignment or whatever. All I know is that we haven't even started planning a move yet (the Fayetteville house isn't even on the market).  But like a tornado, it cometh whether we are ready or not.

September will be busy: moving, sending a child off to college (sniff, sniff), winning the lottery (it could happen) etc . . .

We must find Zen moments where we can.

The first of several paddocks.

And for your viewing pleasure:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3m0c-UjtUoY&context=C4ed6491ADvjVQa1PpcFOKxs2iNGPojzpMSeCDuBr2MgNY1cLEJ6I=

Naysayers be gone!

Naysayers are the bane of my existence. I mean nothing deflates me faster than a pessimist with a sharp pin. It’s like they’re allergic to happiness or hopes or dreams. They’re the dead calm in a sailboat race, the patch of dirt on a ski slope, the itchy tag you forgot to cut off a new shirt. They do to a good mood what a bug zapper does to a moth: lures it in and then snuffs the life out of it.

Think of them as an ice cream cone on a hot day (I know it’s a stretch but stay with me). Like when you’re sitting in your car driving around town with a few minutes to spare and you think “gee, what a great day for ice cream”. So you stop and buy one, your favorite flavor mint chocolate chip on a sugar cone with chocolate sprinkles and you get back in your car and keep on driving.

The windows are open and the sun is shining so nice on your face. It’s a little hot but you know you always welcome the first hot day of the year, such a nice change from winter. The radio is on. Your hair is blowing in the breeze. Everything is just . . . good. You start licking that ice cream cone and think “Well aren’t I lucky? Look at me with my ice cream. Mm mmm”.

You’re licking kind of leisurely and a few drips roll down the side, no big deal you head them off at the pass and keep on enjoying. It’s getting kind of soft now so you lick a little faster, catching the runaways as needed. A few more drips, then some more. You try turning that cone around and attack it on all sides before they hit your hand but you know darn well a few got away so you take a bite off the top, eat a little faster. Of course you hate to eat too fast because half the fun of an ice cream cone is the licking; if you wanted to bite it you would have gotten it in a cup. So you keep chasing the drips down the sides until you’re spending more time licking the sides then you are licking the top and that is how the ice cream wins.

Now you might be a lot of things, but quitter isn’t one of them, defeat is not an option. You change strategy. You call in reinforcements, start switching the cone to the other hand (like maybe that’ll help). You lick like Oprah is sitting next to you and she already ate hers and you told her one scoop wasn‘t gonna fill her up.

And just when you think maybe you got this battle won you feel that sticky goo start seeping through the bottom. The napkin is getting all wet and stuck so you peel it off and bite the end of the cone thinking maybe you could suck out what’s melted before it drips out (we all fall for it, I don’t know why). Well that just gives it a super drip highway. So now you’re moving around the seat trying not to get ice cream on your white pants and you’re watching the road and licking your poor heart out and some guy just cut you off and took your parking place and you’re pretty sure you just passed a cop going over the limit because you pushed your foot on the pedal when you dodged a falling chunk of chocolate and you REFUSE to throw a perfectly good ice cream cone away.

That’s when you stop the car and use a deposit slip to wipe the drips off the steering wheel and assess the damage to your pants (unfortunately you don’t notice the glob that rolled under your butt while you were dodging, but everyone else will as you go through the grocery store). And then you hang your head and wonder what just happened.

Well, my friends, that is what pessimists do. They take a perfectly good ice cream cone and somehow turn it into a bad day, dry cleaning bill and all. I don’t know why we even let them have an opinion, they ought to be charged an air-tax or something. So I say enough, gosh dang it. Sometimes in life we just need to cling to what we know is our truth and not let the negative in. Nod and smile, change the subject, walk away, shoot invisible lasers out of our eyes, anything really.

Now will I always be able to stop the naysayers from trying to melt my mint chocolate chip? Probably not.

But I can carry baby wipes.