Between the ears at Stepping Stone Farm. Saddle seat barns are designed to ride in the aisle. Took me a long time to get used to this.
When we last heard from our hero, he was excited about his adventures off the farm [New Tank Syndrome].
Rodney Is Simple
The day after delivering the jump [Rollerskates], we took Rodney to SSF. He took the inaugural hop! And then he got himself all in a state because he was JUMPING. Yes, I want my horse eager to jump. This does not mean getting one’s panties in a wad about an 18″ crossrail. Save it for the 4′ jump-off.
Unlike Milton, Rodney works the same at home as he does abroad, for good or for ill. Yeah, he was interested in all! the! other! horses!, but that’s a normal response for someone who doesn’t get out much (trust me on this). He didn’t find reassurance in the small ring as we had expected. Covered ring, big ring, walking up the driveway, working at home, I had pretty much the same horse. This means we can work in the backyard rather than hauling him hither and yon.
Rodney Is Complicated
I get on. We walk about. I pick up the tiniest contact. Nothing else. Sitting quietly, asking my horse to walk gently around the ring. Whereupon Rodney slows down his pace, curls his head and neck assembly, jackknifes his turns, and basically ties himself into a pretzel. Then he gets mad because this is hard work. I’m like, ‘Dude, this whole pretzel thing was your idea.’
Knobs on 11 and a disproportionate response to stimuli. Le sigh.
SSF Stepping Stone Farm remains his happy place. After our inaugural jump [Riding Recap], we went back a few days later. We jumped repeatedly! A whole 3 or 4 times! My ground crew reminded me of the words of a previous instructor, ‘You need to go 55, not 35.’ As in, mph. As in, get a move on. So there we were, trotting ’round the round pen. It occured to me that Milton had no idea how to do this. That means I needed to be the adult in the room. Oh sh*t. I put on some leg. We shifted all the way up to a moderate trot. He hopped a cute little jump and cantered quietly away for one or two strides.
Such a good horse!
FHF
Milton has added a new happy place. Fortunately, he is capable of having more than one. After three visits by the people and two visits by the horse, I think I am justified in saying that we are now taking (proto) jumping lessons with Molly McCown of Falcon Hill Farm.
First Lesson
After chatting with Miss Molly [A Small Jump], we brought Milton over. He came off the trailer lit. His attitude was reminiscent of the semi-disastrous dressage lesson – only semi, because we all walked away from the landing [Missing Lesson]. Not as bad this time, but more hysteria than I care to see in a horse I am about to get on. He lunged. He calmed. This reminded me of Northeast Georgia, where the familiar routine settled him [Notes].
We came back to the trailer to switch tack. I did NOT want to get on this horse. If I wasn’t in tears, it was on a technicality. However, if I stopped every time I didn’t want to do something, I would never get anywhere. I promised myself that all I had to do was get on, maybe walk a few steps. I did. He was chill enough for us to continue. I chilled eventually.
Milton and I did a bunch of walking and some trotting while Miss Molly watched. It was more of a supervised schooling session than a proper lesson. Afterwards, we stood around discussing life. Milton hung with us, relaxing and having the occasional yawn.
Second Lesson
Shipped in. Lunged. Changed tack. Presented self for first official (proto) jump lesson in I-don’t-want-think-about-the-number years.
We trotted. We trotted the other way. We cantered. We cantered several laps. We went the other way. More laps. I was amazed and ready to declare victory. Miss Molly set up two poles ion the ground some distance apart. She wanted us to canter over them. Do what?! I don’t think the nice lady in the middle of the ring realized how little cantering Milton and I had done.
We cantered back and forth over the poles, working on getting a short 4 or a long 3 strides. Well, that was the plan. I worked on staying straight and keeping Milton cantering. Milton worked on figuring out how to deal with objects underfoot. Striding was a distant afterthought.
Go, Milton!
Home
Riding at home is still a work in progress. I wanted to start getting acclimated. Groundcrew reminded me that Milton and I had walked and trotted over the summer while practicing our dressage tests. I had totally forgotten.
Yes, it’s partly me. I get anxious and anticipate problems. In my defense, Milton has given me cause. The meltdowns at Northeast Georgia and the dressage lesson, above, come to mind, both of which had nothing to do with me. Even at SSF, he is sensitive to what ring he is in. He prefers the covered to the big ring and the big ring to the outdoors. Fortunately, he seems to like the FHF ring. And he seems to be agreeable about shipping to his various appointments.
Looking Backward
Happy with where the blog ended up after the break. Less emphasis on Rodney, less frustration for me. Plus, I aimed for entertainment, at least in addition to my generalized yapping. If I’m struggling with a post, you probably won’t be interested either.
Being happy with my own content does not make me immune to blog envy. When I read posts on other blogs, I notice number of comments, number of Facebook shares, and so on. Recently, a post praising a riding coach after a successful horse show appeared several times on my news feed. Hey, I wrote that post four years ago [Lessons From Nationals: The Value of a Coach]. Why didn’t mine go viral?! But that is petty and I try to move on. We all have different virtues.
Looking Forward
The format of blog is reactive. I do things with horses. I write about it. Therefore, there’s not a great deal of planning required for the blog itself. Continue to do things with horses. Continue to write about it.
Statistics
Today is post #2471 total, 294 (calculated) for 2018
Barring great upheaval, 12/31/18 will be #2473 and 296 (calculated) for 2018.
WordPress says I posted twice on 3/11/18 & missed 11/4/18. No in both cases. Well, the difference comes out in the wash.
Video by Courtney Huguley
Post-production by Greg Walcott
Looking backward, Looking Forward
I had anticipated writing a long post evaluating my year with Milton, Rodney, Saddlebreds, my mental game, and so on. Pony ride to jump pretty much covers it.
After a show season, an end-of-the-year activity is to hang all of one’s ribbons on one’s horse, for example Contact: 2018 You Been Good. I couldn’t face sorting out all the horses and their ribbons – and isn’t that a wonderful problem to have – so I have done it digitally. Commentary below.
The Horses
Tigger By Tiger (Tigger) Underlying photo by Sandra HallSultan’s Miracle Man (Sam) Underlying photo by Casey McBrideWhiskey Throttle (Whiskey) Underlying photo by Doug ShifletBel Cheval’s I’m Joanie (Joanie) Underlying photo by Doug ShifletHB Whizbang (Snippy) Underlying photo by Casey McBrideMilton Underlying photo by Brian Pope.
The Numbers, Looking Back
Shows: 12
Saddle Seat: 7 total, 3 big, 4 small
Pleasure Driving: 4
Hunt Seat: 3
Dressage: 2
Combined Driving: 1
Non-compete: 3
Tigger: 1 show, but what a show.
Sam: 4 shows, 10 ribbons, 8 of them blue. I love this horse. Not because we win, which is nice, but because we get along well enough that we win.
Joanie: 3 shows. She got me into the ring at Nationals. I give her an assist on our Sunday win.
Whiskey: 3 shows, 2 drive, 1 ride & drive. Whatever is needful. What a good boy.
Snippy: 1 show, 1 class. My best driving of the year, our best class together. The only driving class where I had competition.
Milton: 9 shows total, 1 CDE, 3 non-compete, 3 hunt seat, 2 dressage.
Me: 11 shows. Pretty good for not starting until the end of May.
Greg: 3 shows total, 1 showing, 2 non-compete.
Months: 8, one each March, May, June, July, two each August, September, October & November
Ribbons: 39, 23 saddle seat, 6 hunt seat, 4 driving, 4 dressage, 1 costume, 1 CDE (pity ribbon)
Blues: 18
Yes, there’s a lot of blue up there. I will be the first to cop to the fact some are from solo classes (5/18, driving & hunt seat). I figure, I was there, I did what was asked, I’ll take the ribbon, thank you very much. Since many of the classes were small, much of the color (*cough*Milton’s dressage*cough*) comes from last place. Again, management chooses to divide the show into small classes? I do my thing, I take my ribbon.
The Plan, Looking Forward
I have no idea. Even less than usual.
Milton. Your guess is as good as mine. Low-level dressage? Small hunter or jumper shows? Little events? Driving? Will he be ready? Will he keep his brain together when we get there? We shall see.
Rodney: Ha. It could happen. Pigs could fly. The horse could learn to sing. If Rodney sets a hoof in a show ring, any ring, I will commission an artwork of flying pigs wearing iceskates while singing.
Saddle Seat. I wallow in my eternal, self-imposed Academy limbo. In the past few years, it hasn’t been too bad. The same group of us adults appears at the shows. They beat me. I beat them. At some point, new riders will join our party. If they are up from the juniors, or new to riding, I will feel bad beating them. Or they will beat me and I will feel worse.
We’ll wing it. After all, 2018 turned out well for a year wherein we made up the schedule as it went along.
Virtual Brush Box 