The Merhorse, An Exercise In Blue And Green, With Free Coloring PDFs

Celebrating Art

 

 
I Dream Horses: A Coloring Book for Everyone
by Linda Dalziel
(CreateSpace 2016)

One of three free coloring pages offered via the book’s Facebook page @idreamhorses. Credit for the assist to BB.

Process Notes. For this one, I picked the colors by eye. The result looks as if randomly I upended the blue/green section of the digital crayon box unto the page. Proving why I should stay with picking colors by number [Color Factory].

Happy drawing!

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Show Today, Yet I Languish At Home, Is It The End Of An Era?

Adventures in Saddle Seat

Enjoyed the ride

 


 

Show today.

I am not there.


[2013 photo, Report]

Gasp.

Sob.

Sniffle.


[2014 photo, Report]

I have unfailingly attended the Mid-South Spring Premiere Horse Show every year since 2013. Usually with Sam [Progression, 2016, 2017, 2018]. Last year with Milton [Two Sides].

Have I wupped my last trot? [Why Wup?]


[2015 photo, Report]

I chose not to compete as my life has been bereft of Saddlebreds since March. [Center of Gravity]

Have I asked for my last outside rein/outside leg canter transition?


[2015]

Even before the virus upended our world, I was drifting away from the saddle seat arena. Last year I competed in only a small handful of ASB shows, two with guest Thoroughbreds. [Looking Back, Horses of 2019]

Have I finished my last pass?


[2016]

At the awards banquet for last year, I was deep in the pastels for divisions I usually win. [Changing Of The Guard]

Have I pulled into my last line up?


[2016]

I skipped Winter Tournament to work with our horses [Sitting Out]. Weekends will continue to be valuable. Schedule conflicts will ever be road blocks in the path to dual-career stardom. [This Is Why You Can’t Do It All]

Have I won my last huge, gorgeous, fluffy ASB ribbon? [An Attempt To Freeze Time]


[2017]

Academy is for education. It’s where you learn to show before moving up to the big leagues. It is unsporting of me to hang around the division for mumble years like a party guest who refuses to leave.

Have I cross-diagonalled my last victory pass?


[2017]

Maybe in the far distant future of next week or next month, I could resume appropriately socially-distant saddle seat lessons, even if I’m not showing.

Maybe in the impossibly, relativistically distant future of a few years from now – when Rodney has retired from his late-blooming yet stellar show career – I could find an amenable Saddlebred who would like to be my horse for the season and finally show suit.

Alas, such thoughts are soap bubbles that disappear as I examine them.

Today, I am imprisoned in the tyranny of the now.

Thinking of what was.


[2018]

Meanwhile.

The show must go on.

Without me.


[2018]

Spotlight fades to black.

Melodramatic soliloquy ends.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Outing Report, In Which I Venture To The Dentist

Thoughts

 
Since several of you were kind enough to ask about my great adventure, I thought I would give a detail accounting. Also to record the moment. Either we will reach a point when we no longer have to go through these gymnastics. In which case, we will forget what it was like. Or such routines will become standard. In which case, we won’t remember the novelty of it all. [Venturing Out]

Tooth
My tooth was, in fact, fractured. Fortunately, mostly above the gum line. This was an important point to the dentist. The wiggly piece was found and removed.

My dentist recommended an onlay, which is like a crown but leaves more tooth. The difference between that and a big honking filling – of which I have several – that the onlay is ceramic while the filling is composite. I still have a few old silver fillings as well. I tell you, my teeth are a wonderland for dentists.

Once the loose piece was gone, the tooth had to be drilled to remove part of a filling and shape the tooth for the onlay. Gaa. Hate drilling. Who doesn’t? They numbed the area but you can still hear the sound, feel the vibration, and smell the burning. I say again, gaa.

Two hours later, I was the proud processor of a temporary onlay. I go back in three weeks once the permanent gizmo is ready. More work than I was expecting, but I probably should not have been surprised. I was thinking crown. I forgot all the shaping that comes before. Selective memory.

Tired
That night, I was worn out. Two hours flat out in a dental chair being drilled and prodded and holding your mouth open and waiting for the numbing to fail. Plus the coagulant in the Novocaine gives me the shivers.

Despite my earlier reservations, none of my exhaustion came from Coronavirus concerns.

Precautions – Outside
The downtown area was quiet. The sidewalks were close to vacant. I walked past maybe a dozen people in four blocks. From what I’m hearing, walking past someone outside is a low-risk situation.

Precautions – Inside
As I said in my update, the anti-virus procedures were outstanding. The entire time, I felt confident that people had done their best to protect me and themselves.

When I entered the dental building, I only got through the first set of doors before I was greeted by gowned and masked folks. I had my temperature taken from my forehead. I gave my name. Was offered hand sanitizer. They couldn’t find my name on their lists, so I was taken into the lobby to be looked up on the computer.

A computer has been set up at a temporary table in the middle of the lobby. The computer operator had gown, mask, and face shield. Probably gloves as well, but I can’t recall. Another computer propped on the receptionist’s counter was using facial recognition to count the number of people in the room. I was #10. I was located on the list, given a clipboard, and told to wait over there.

Three-quarters of the chairs in the main lobby had been removed, leaving half a dozen well spaced. I answered all of the exposure questions and returned my paper. Sat down to read.

A runner from the dentist’s office came down to get me. She escorted me into the elevator and pressed the buttons with her gloved hand. So far, I touched nothing but the pump on the hand sanitizer bottle (I helped myself before they offered. Bad habit?) and the clipboard/pen. The two of us were alone in a standard-size elevator and stood to either side.

Since they were holding people down on the first floor, I was the lone customer in the office waiting area. Several chairs had been turned to the wall &/or roped off.

The attention to detail continued into the exam room. I was in a room by itself rather than the wider open areas that I usually see. Dentist & technician wore gowns, gloves, mask, and faceshields. The women in the office wore their hair covered with a cap/snood arrangement that came with buttons to hold elastic loops, if needed. It may have been a fashion or religious statement, but a) I don’t remember see them before and the buttons made me think it was medically-specific. Keeps you from touching your hair and face? Easier to have hair up when wearing a mask? Looked tidy.

Once done, I was escorted back down to the lobby and sent on my way.

My sense is that my exposure was low for the day. In total, I spoke to seven non-bubble people: two at check-in, the dental office runner, the two dental folk, the office receptionist at check out, and one friend (waves hi!). The encounters were either brief, well-separated, with requisite PPE, or a combination of the above. Any germ would have had a hard time getting through the masks and plastic and distance.

Maybe this is common where you live. Maybe this is common around me & I don’t get out much. It was my first time through this kind of gauntlet.

News Article on The Subject
From hair salons to gyms, experts rank 36 activities by coronavirus risk level By Taylor DesOrmeau, AL.com, June 3, 2020

The experts ranked a dentist’s office 4 of 10, although that was an average, “Two experts called it low risk, one said it’s a medium risk and the other said it’s high risk.” The one who felt it was high risk, said to avoid appointments, “unless there’s a specific issue that needs to be addressed.” Bingo.

In evaluating outings, “The doctors pointed to five factors, when considering how risky a given activity might be: Whether it’s inside or outside; proximity to others; exposure time; likelihood of compliance; and personal risk level.”

1) inside or outside
2) proximity to others
3) exposure time
4) likelihood of compliance
5) personal risk level

Given that scale, my days was high on the first three criteria: indoors, close, and long. Low-risk on the last two: super-high compliance and healthy subjects.

Elsewhere in the article, “Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer has also issued an executive order requiring people to wear face coverings over their mouth and nose while inside ENCLOSED, public spaces.” Emphasis mine. So unmasked folks walking past me on the sidewalk, meh. Their karma, low risk to me.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Bling! Finally!

Fit To Ride

 

 
Finally got a 5k medal! Fourth time’s the charm. To recap:

Magic City, wrong medal, too slow [Proof of Concept]
Drum Run, no medal, too slow [Strolling To A Soundtrack]
La Jolla, medal, in the mail [Strolling Along]
Green Bay, medal! [Strolling Around and Around and Around]

Does bling matter? You might as well ask if horse show ribbons matter. and that’s just plain heresy.
 

 
Also t-shirt & bib number.

Official Results
Cellcom Green Bay Marathon Virtual 5K Run/Walk
Green Bay, WI
5/17/2020
 

 
Alternate Results
km pace 15.35
age graded percent 23 “Age grading allows you to compare your performance to others, adjusted for differences in age and gender.” from results page, more here.

My Results
Time – 1:17:53
Pace – 24:32
[Strolling Around and Around and Around, Walk Report, Cellcom Green Bay Virtual 5k 2020]

Differences
Pace difference must be from walking 3.17 but having my official time calculated over 3.1. Not sure why they decided on 60 for my age. Not that it matters for this. I would still have been last, 9 of 9, in 55-59. I have no explanation for the wandering bib numbers. I am filed under #10308 in the results. The 209 appears to have been printed for the virtual race. Maybe they renumbered. I assume the bib itself is an desirable artifact for racers to collect. Certainly nicer than horse show numbers.

Finisher Certificate
 

 

What are you doing for exercise these days?

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

We – The Unicorns … Go On A Road Trip, Guest Post

Welcome Meg! [Archives]
Meg McKinney, Photographer
[We – The Unicorns … Arrive, Guest Post]

~~~
 

 

We – The Unicorns … Go On A Road Trip

Story and Photographs by Meg McKinney

 
As if they stepped off a color wheel, the unicorns became brilliant creatures in the sunshine. I couldn’t resist taking their pictures. It was a Kodak moment.

“Road trip!” Mystic, the unicorns’ leader, announced earlier that day. All agreed, and plans were made. The four unicorns, currently visiting our realm, were curious about stable and pasture life for their equine counterparts.

On a recent sunny, spring afternoon, we visited Stepping Stone Farm Riding Academy, Chelsea, Alabama. I felt confident the unicorns would be welcome, and free to kick up their hooves. I provided transportation. The unicorns admitted that, left to themselves, they would get stuck in traffic on Hwy. 280. And, I knew that if any driver that saw them traveling along this busy highway, they would slam on the brakes, and that would cause more traffic problems.

The American Saddlebred horses at Stepping Stone Farm are a pretty cool bunch. Upon arrival, the unicorns certainly caught their attention. But, once their curiosity about the glittery visitors was satisfied, they returned to grass grazing. Horses have priorities.

In this time of the pandemic, the unicorns kept a social distance, following fence lines of the pastures and the arena.
 

 
Mystic practiced a piaffe atop a fence post, when Buddy, a chestnut with a blaze, peered from a barn window. Buddy returned to his afternoon oats, when he observed that Mystic was prancing in place, and wouldn’t get near his feed bucket.
 

 
Melody, the herd coordinator for all things practical, looked over the grooming stall. Perhaps she envisioned hoof trims, and replacing bits of glitter.
 

 
Starlight, head of the unicorns’ security detail, scanned the property for unwanted visitors. All was quiet. Biggums, in a nearby pasture, looked up at Starlight, and then continued his all-important grazing.
 

 
Twinkle, had a grand time, galloping along the rim of the arena, looking for new faces. Her mane and tail sparkled. A bay mare, named “Slim,” was occupied with new green grass, and paid no attention to Twinkle – that anyone could tell.

The stables’ feathered residents had their own agendas. The peacocks fluffed and fluttered their springtime finery. After side-ways glances at the unicorns, they strutted on. The guinea fowl chirped, patrolled for insects, and paid no heed to the unicorns. The barn cats were nowhere to be seen, but I’m sure they saw everything.

 

 

When it was time to go, Starlight herded the group back to my car. Everyone took one last look around to remember their day out. On the drive back to Birmingham, the unicorns discussed their visit.

“Did you see how green the pastures are?” Melody was excited by the ready supply of grass for her fellow unicorns.

Twinkle was enthralled by the numerous containers of product for manes and tails, kept in the wash stall. Perfect for any filly, grooming for an evening out.

“The arena would be good for my classical dressage practice,” declared Mystic, who prefers center stage by performing airs above the ground.

Starlight, peering out a car window, informed the herd “we should consider relocating to Stepping Stone Farm, if we need an escape from danger.”

This concluded the unicorns’ road trip and discoveries. Let’s hope they allow us to tag along on their next adventure, whenever and wherever that may be.
~~~
 

 
Photographing toy unicorn models is a welcome challenge presented by “Virtual Brush Box,” during the pandemic of 2020. The opportunity to create a fictional story — a complete diversion from photojournalism and corporate photography –- is new territory, and pushes my skill sets. This is good for every photographer.

Follow “We – The Unicorns…” as they let me know when, and where, they roam. Their arrival is documented here. They are Unicorn Stablemates from Breyer Animal Creations.

Meg McKinney, Photographer

Posting The Trot, You’d Think I’d Know How To Do That By Now

Training Journal

If you’re riding a horse, you’ve already won.

 
My groundcrew pointed out that I lean forward when I post the trot. Up & forward. Up & forward. Like a metronome. So I have been working on this. A good shut-down exercise. Hard for the rider; low-key for the horse.
 

 
When the ideal rider posts, the hips move up and forward. The shoulder does the same.
 

 
When I post, the point of my shoulder describes a longer arc than the point of my hip does. I don’t collapse down, so much as lean forward as I rise. While I have been know to slump my shoulders on occasion [Dueling Disciplines], that is not the problem here.

We can argue about the exact arc the pelvis should make. The point is 1) the motion of the hip and the shoulder should match. 2) Mine don’t. The result is that I end up pitched forward at the top of the post.

I do this for two reasons.

One. It is part of my execrable habit of leaning forward, pitching the reins, and thinking ‘Go, horsie, go.’ I do this riding [Being Muddled] and driving [Spontaneous Showing].

Two. Lurking in my hindbrain is the theory that hovering over the shoulder is somehow “kinder” to the horse. The habit is even worse at the canter. Getting rid of this idea is harder than uprooting kudzu.

To fix this, people yell at me to get my shoulders back. They are not wrong. Unfortunately, I react to this instruction by forcing my shoulder blades together. This doesn’t work. It is an untenable position that does not address the underlying problem. The rot sets in at the hip joint.

Rodney is hyper-sensitive to everything that happens on his back. His knobs are on 11. Always. When I start flinging my shoulders about, he either picks up a canter or – if he’s in a mood – gets pissy.

So, I’m learning how to post the trot.

Process notes. Apologies if I have posted this before. I remember having this discussion with Coach Courtney. (Clearly, I have not fixed the problem.) I remember thinking it would make a good theory post. Before I started this post, I searched on the words arc, shoulder, and posting. Nothing came up. So, I assumed I had not posted this before. Or I did, can’t find, and forgot. Again [Blogging: Not Remembering].

Can I point out how confusing it is to write about posting, as in the blog, at the same time as writing about posting, as in the trot? I need more words.

Roberto preparing to zoom around the ring. [Being Muddled]

Update, Tuesday evening: Tooth getting an onlay. Protection procedures outstanding. More on Friday.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Mood On Monday, Venturing Out

Thoughts

 
I hold to my policy of not editorilaizing on current events. I have nothing to add, except my outrage, which solves nothing and helps no one. When you bite into a cupcake, you don’t want Hollandaise sauce. “So, this is me, writing about horses, being a cupcake.” [Speaking Out]
~~~
Or not writing about horses, as the day would have it.

Dentist appointment tomorrow. Me, not horses. Medical providers are opening on a limited basis. My fractured tooth qualifies [Inconveniences]. This will be my first extended interaction with strangers since the pandemic got to my state.

I have not talked to a stranger for more than the length of a check-out transaction in over two months. Even those occasions are rare. When we have essential tasks, husband goes in the store. Either they are his errands or – sadly – people will respect his space more than mine.

I’m not nervous. Covid 19 is serious; it’s not anthrax. To the best of my understanding, passing contact with a tiny amount of virus particles will not doom me. I’m going into a medical environment. They will be better at this than I am. Of all medical types, a dental office will be the most up-to-date on respiratory disease transmission. They spend their lives getting up in a person’s grill and not getting sick.

I’m not nervous. I am concerned. Low-risk is not no risk. Young, perfectly healthy people can get Covid19 and die from it. I may be healthy but I’m teetering on the edge of when they say you should consider locking yourself in a tower.

I’m not nervous. I do have questions. I plan on wearing a mask and staying away from people. Will people stay away from me? Will I forget myself and commit stupid, contamination-prone actions? These are not habits I am used to. What will the world be like between the safety of my truck and the dental office? How do I manage the elevator? What if I go in first and people crowd in? Should I look for the stairs?

I live in a … um … mask-optional area. Some stores are all about protecting employees and customers: masks, acrylic barriers, regulated lines. Other stores act as if the virus is over, or never happened in the first place. No protests. No eye-rolling if you do wear a mask. Spotty compliance.

Mind you, data from my direct experience is limited, as I said. Most of this is based on reports from the household’s ambassador to the outside world and my surveys of parking lots while I wait.

Want to give props to folks doing it right. Little Professor, a local bookstore, has made a huge effort. I was picking up an order I made weeks earlier, back when everyone was yipping about placing orders to support local businesses. They had their double doors wide open, which eliminated the need to touch the door handles. This was before research was telling us about the advantages of fresh air and ventilation, so that was a happy bonus. They completely rearranged their interior by heaving bookshelves around and removing their center island. Traffic flow was wide open and I could see every person in the store in order to avoid them, had I wished to browse. The small check-out table was easy for both customer and employee to step back from. They clearly put thought into their new arrangement. Of course, masks on all employees. Good job. Here’s a cookie.

I say I’m not nervous now. We’ll see how exhausted I am tomorrow evening when I get home from my big adventure.

Update, Tuesday evening: Tooth getting an onlay. Protection procedures outstanding. More on Friday.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott