Today is the first day of advanced camp at Falcon Hill Farm. I am not among the campers.
Pause for dramatic sniffle.
Last year, Milton and I rode in Stepping Stone Farm’s advanced camp [1, 2, 3, 4]. This year, Milton and I are taking lessons at a hunter/jumper barn. Surely, we will ride in the hunter/jumper advanced camp?
You will not and don’t call me Shirley.
FHF Advanced Camp is open to ‘Students age 12-18 who jump 2’6 and above.’ I am less worried about the age requirement than the height requirement. It is easier to fake being under 18 than it is to fake jumping 2’6″.
It is a hunter/jumper barn. Advanced students jump bigger jumps. Duh.
My horse is green. We are not ready to jump bigger jumps. Double duh.
My ability as a rider, or lack thereof, is not relevant. I could be a grand prix rider and the result would be the same. Triple duh.
Yet, a small, ego-driven part of me is still saying, ‘ … but … but … I … me … but … but … ‘
Sigh.
Photo by Deborah Rubin
Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott
Virtual Brush Box 
Nice shot, Deb!
Thanks! And that’s straight from the camera, no cropping. (Bragging on myself, LOL)
And that was back in the days of film, when we were more selective about when we pressed the shutter. At least I was.
My dad always said film is the cheapest part of the process, take a lot and odds are you’ll get that good one. If I could get the back of my old camera open, I think I’d go back to film for a lot of stuff.