After The Show, In Which I Try To Corral The Frogs

Awareness of the outside world. “It says something about our world that we seldom remember the person who came up with an idea, but canonize the pragmatist who made it commercially viable.” The author is referring to Gutenberg, Fulton, & Edison, then points out, “Already we have forgotten the people who created most of the important computer concepts and instead celebrate the people who became rich on them.” Paper: Paging Through History, by Mark Kurlansky (Norton 2016), prologue. [Before, intro]

~~~

tl,dr: I tried to have a lesson and failed to live up to my own minimal standards.

I even drew a frog on my hand, to remind me to feel froggy. It did not help.

My message to me, last week.

“Promise to self, in return for taking the easy route, once the show was over, I would at least attempt new things, i.e. put on my big girl jods & ride new horses.” [Before The Show, In Which I Dither And Decide To Go To A Horse Show]

My message to Coach Courtney, Saturday after the show.

Putting this out there while I still have horse show frogginess. I will ride whatever horse you name on Monday. I will not guarantee to do anything more than walk in the round pen. (Oh dear, I can feel the frogs hopping away. Come back!) 🐸

Monday came. I arrived at barn.

Taking me at my word, Coach Courtney announced that I would be riding Cosmo.

Deep breath. I can do this. Look at hand. Think froggy. All I promised was to walk.

Well.

Earthwork being done off in the distance. Jumpy about that due to my terrible, terrible lesson with Milton, wherein he objected to construction noise, among other things. [Milton’s Missing Lesson]

To ease into a lesson, I will sometimes walk the horse in-hand in the round pen and then get on there, instead of getting on in the barn. Reduce all variables to their simplest element.

Well.

As Coach Courtney and Cosmo circled the round pen, one of the field horses decided to go walkabout. Zip this way. Zing that way. Pasture mate sang the song of abandonment.

Cosmo was having a big time.

Mind you, this is a horse who generally needs help getting motivated. So I’m told.

I went over, opened a gate. Cavorting horse now behind a fence. Pasture mate still screaming. Construction noises still rattling.

Cosmo had his head up, showing the whites of his eyes. What is this? What is that? What is that over there?

While this was all going on, I tried. I stood on the mounting block. I walked him around the ring. We chatted. I watched him chill. I knew – rationally – that Cosmo wasn’t likely to do much more more than look about himself with alertness. If he did act up, it wouldn’t be much.

Didn’t help.

Nope. Nope. Noppity nope.

It’s not a confidence issue. It’s a trust issue. Unless my mount is the quietest of school ponies, I harbor the suspicion that the horse is a heartbeat away from a having a meltdown and hopping across the ring. I wonder why. (Gives hard side-eye to home team.) If one starts a ride with that attitude, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. [Cumulative Effect]

I never did get on.

Were does this leave me? I have no idea.