Roll Call, The Many Names of Milton, Unreport #3

Still no definitive answer for Milton’s show name.

Major Conn. Registered name [Milton’s Real Name]. The name we would have to use for any FEI-level competitions or pay a $$$$ name-change fee. Not likely to be a problem. 2008

Pedigree Database
 
Milton. Stable name. Came with him. pre-2014

Canadian Cold Front. First attempt [Meet Milton]. Died on the vine. Get it? He came down from Canada. No one else was amused. 2014

Monochrome Rainbow. Playing off the variety of grays in his coat. Came up with in 2017 [Show Names]. Used on stall card for non-compete shows in 2018 [Notes from North Georgia, Here for the Experience]. 2017


 
Moonlight Rainbow. A more poetic version of the above. Used for dressage shows in 2018 [Maintaining Our Firm Grip On Last Place, For This I Cleaned My Tack?]. 2018

Miltonn. Note the 2 Ns. Differentiates him from the other Milton, see below. Harks back to the 2 Ns in his registered name. Used for the postponed dressage show [Unreport #1]. I’m concerned that the funky spelling would be more trouble that it is worth. 2019

The easiest thing would be to show Milton under his stable name. I have no problem with that in theory. First Horse had a single barn/show name. However, one of the best show jumpers of the 20thC was a grey(UK) named Milton [Wiki, Horse & Hound: 12 fascinating facts about our hero]. Seems presumptuous to show my gray(USA) Milton under the same name.

My Milton?
Minor Milton?
Minor League Milton?
The Other Milton?
Another Milton?
Major Milton?
Milton Mark II?
Milton 2.0?
Maximum Milton?
Millennium Milton?

Show managers understand about indecisive horse owners. The dressage show entry form asked for Show Name and Name On Coggins.

Update
As I suspected, the two-n version of Milton won’t wash. It failed first time out of the box. [Pre-Flight Check].

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Cross Country Called On Account of Rain, Unreport #2


 
The other activity postponed last weekend [Unreport #1] was an impromptu cross-country school. I had no plans to do this. We are not ready for a full day of galloping in the open, which is what one normally thinks of when considering a XC school.

As I filled out the entry form, I saw the words, “Cross-Country schooling, $25 with entry.” Flying high off our jumping session at Stepping Stone Farm [Still Recording Every Effort], I decided to go for it. Why not? We’d be there anyway. Milton was good the last time [Mr. Excitement Regards His Future]. So I signed up.

An even better jump school confirmed the marvelousness of the idea [Juggling The Options, photo].

Then came the hissy fit [Two Hops Forward], which took the wind out of my sails, and the admonishment to ride forward AWAY from the jumps [Big Trot], which upped the ante on what we should be doing over the XC fences.

As a result, we didn’t jump during the schooling adventure [Where In The World Is Milton?], due in part to the lack of value in the little amount of jumping we would have done.

Had we gone to the show, I would have at least walked over some jumps. Might as well, the fee had been paid. If all we had done was plod over a few log piles, didn’t cost nothing but time.

So that’s the plan for the new show date. After the rides, I’ll put on my vest. We will go out to the cross-country course. We will do something. Not sure what. Maybe I’ll be feeling froggier by then.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Dressage Called on Account of Rain, Show Unreport #1


 
Last weekend was supposed to be Milton’s 2019 show debut. Then the weather dumped Noah’s Ark amounts of water on us. Show postponed.

At first, the goal was show acclimation. We aren’t ready to have our canter transition seen in public. So, no WTC tests for us. I signed up for the same two walk-trot tests we did last year [Maintaining Our Firm Grip On Last Place, For This I Cleaned My Tack?]. Sigh. I was even going to schedule a blog post for the day to remind myself that our goal was getting Milton used to the show atmosphere, regardless of what we did in the ring.

Then we had our jumping lesson [Big Trot]. The warm-up from that helped me ride Milton better at our dressage schooling [Where In The World Is Milton?]. No surprise. Flat work is flat work. Maybe there is a difference when one gets to 4′ hunter derbys and shadbelly levels of dressage. Where I’m standing, it’s all about forward and listening and happy kid on a happy pony.

So, I have a small flickering hope that our actual tests won’t be horrid. Now, we have even more time to get ready. If it every stops raining.
~~~
Process notes: Fiddled with lightness & saturation sliders to make the photo look more like what I saw. A first, or close to.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Easing On Down The Road


 
In reading the archives for ‘Fraidy Cat Eventing, I noticed that she used to haul often. I suggested a possible post on maintaining one’s motivation for shipping. She responded with stress-free horse hauling.

“In the spring of 2014 I started hauling out for weekly lessons, a routine that persisted until Charlie moved to his current barn in the summer of 2017. During the winters with Isabel, we often shipped out 2+ times a week to local indoors, since our own outdoor arena would freeze solid for a couple months each year. Plus, obviously, we ship out to almost all our shows.”

She goes on explain her set-up and give pointers on making the process go a little more smoothly. Let’s see how I did.

1. Getting Comfortable with the Rig
Been driving a truck for years. This is my third one. So I speak truck, probably better than car.

2. But Will the Horse Load?
Yes. All of my horses load. I have been know to show off by tossing the leadrope over Milton’s neck & letting him auto-load.

3. General Strategies to De-Stress
Take your time. So true. We get to lessons and shows way early.

Have an equine buddy. No. The only option would be to bring both horses. Shudder. Right now both of them require two people. Plus, Milton has separation anxiety if I ride Rodney in the field and leave Milton in his own stall. I don’t want to think what Milton would do left alone in a strange place if Rodney came along. Shudder again. Probably some day, but not now.

Have a human buddy. Yes. So much easier when ground crew comes with. But then, everything is easier when he comes with.

All the necessities in reach. Yes. In 2017, we did many, many eight-hours-in-one-day drives for lessons with Coach Kate. Although we weren’t trailering, we learned how to keep the people healthy & happy for long trips. We got the in-cab system tuned.

4. Equipment to Make Life Easier
Yes. Spare halters. Dedicated manure bucket and fork. Bucket hooks. And so on. And so on. The only things we have to load are the horse’s personal brush box, lunging/riding/driving equipment, and people gear.

So did I learn?
I’ve got the process as trimmed down as it’s going to get. The only thing left is to load up and go.

I find myself much more motivated when I am shipping in order to do something I can’t do at home: take a lesson, use a covered ring/nice footing, leap over pretty jumps either stadium or cross-country, attend a show. I will always want to go places and do things with my horse.

I get frustrated when I am traveling to do things that I should be able to do at home: borrow a ring because my horse doesn’t want to canter “out in the open” of his own pasture, or jump tiny crossrails that look no different than the ones at home.

Trailering always takes time. The time has to be worth the trade-off. The ideal would be to have a sustainable, regular program at home, and then trailering for additional adventures.

Thank you for reading, and thank you to FCE for her sharing her trailering experiences.
Katherine Walcott

Color & Shadow & Spotted

On My Mind, Miscellaneous Visuals

 

Photography Workshop: Color and Shadow
Sloss Furnaces


 
Colors, Power House.

Shadow, Blowing Engine Building.

Spotted stands at the mouth of the iron notch, the pipe at the bottom of the No. 1 furnace out of which molten iron poured every 4 hours, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, from 1929 to 1971, barring shut-downs every 5-7 years to replace the internal bricks that kept the furnace itself from melting. The previous furnace on this spot began running in 1882, (3-5 years for shutdowns). The iron notch is in the center of the furnace photo. The notch to the right was for slag.

Process Notes: Shadow photo cropped & furnace photo leveled, but no other post-production adjustments for color etc., mainly because I don’t know how. Need to get on that.

Previous Links: [Sloss Furnaces] & [ Weaving With Light]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Lingering Laments, A Heath Update

On My Mind, Miscellaneous Thoughts

 

Since y’all were kind enough to express concern about my health, I’ll let you know how it’s going.

Mostly fine. Having trouble shaking off the last lingering effects of whatever was bothering me. I’d blame sloth but I have an occasional cough that hangs around like the smell of ripe laundry, enough to convince me that it is not all in my head.

My first theory was digestive troubles. I was a symphony of gas pain after meals and gurgling noises and indigestion when I lay down. Whatever bug or bacteria I hosted had derailed my tum sufficiently that it was not processing correctly. Therefore, my food was not bio-available. Lovely theory, no? Too bad it had no bearing in reality.

1) I hadn’t dropped any weight, so clearly I was squeezing nutrition from what I ate.

2) A week of human UlcerGard had no effect.

Then, after the show weekend [Report, Options], I slept for two days. The next day, I rode 3 horses. The day after that, I slept most of the day. Then, I was busy two days in a row [Lesson, Sloss (pending)] and tried to keep going. Cue stomach troubles.

So, I’m tired. When I got my truck back [Wheels], I started riding, shipping to lessons, and swimming. It was too much. When I try to do too much, I get tired. When I’m tired, my digestive system lashes out.

Which is utterly ridiculous. Half of my rides are walks. I’m in the pool less time than it takes me to drive there [The Downside of Being Mobile]. None of this should wear me out.

However, my brain doesn’t get to make that decision. If my body says it’s tired, then it’s tired. So, I have I stopped swimming, temporarily. I still ride and ship, but accept that I need to rest. Well, I try to accept that I need to rest. And yes, ponder why I think of my brain as “I” and think of my body as a convenient vehicle to carry me around.

None of this is serious, just annoying. Been spending this dark, rainy week napping, writing blog posts, and running errands. With luck next week will be more festina, less lente.

Thank you for reading, and for your concern,
Katherine Walcott

Two Hops Forward, One Step Back

“Adventures Are Not All Pony-Rides In The May-Sunshine”
J.R.R. Tolkein

This is a warts-and-all blog, right? Well, we had a bit of a set-back. TLDR: Milton had an fit of the hops. I sat it. Commence mental gyrations.

The Timeline
T-2 days. Milton had two hissy fits while being lunged. Both times occured while he was being asked for lateral work. Both times, I was just about to say, ‘oh, he’s doing well.’ when he flipped his pancakes. Apparently, it was too much. Even though it was only a tiny bit of quasi-sidewaysness, we need to make it half of a tiny bit, 1 or 2 steps, rather than 3 or 4. He finds lateral work hard. Now we know. He gets upset when life is hard. That we knew.

T-day. Muddy. No way to work in the ring. We did one lap around the pasture at a walk. The next lap, we did the first half at a trot. We had trotted in the field before, but up the hill rather than around the edge.

Milton was not pleased. He laid on the reins and thought about playing the I Was A Racehorse card. He never does that. We pulled up after the trot segment. He started curling his front leg, one of his tells for stress. We walked. We finished up the lap at a mild trot. So far so good.

We start the next lap. A pole sat in our way lengthwise. Crosswise, we could have trotted over it. I told Milton he had to pick a side, one way or the other.

He lost his freaking mind.

Hop. Hop. Hop. Full-on, head down crow hops. I pulled on both reins, as one does. Hop. Hop. Hop. I realized that two reins is a pulling contest I can’t win. Pulled on one rein. Hop. Hop. Hop. Pause. Hop. Hop. Hop. Pause long enough for me to debark.

Regroup.

I got back on. Go me.
I walked. Yay.
We did a few steps of super mild trotting, on a circle, in the ring. It wasn’t the original question, but I was on & we were trotting. Go us.

T+2. Went ahead with jumping lesson [Reaching for the Big Trot]. We know he likes the Falcon Hill Farm ring.

T+4 Schooling at Full Circle Horse Park [Where In The World Is Milton?].

The Upsides
The intent was confused not evil. This doesn’t make a difference when one is pogo-sticking around the pasture. In hindsight, he was expressing himself, rather than trying to ditch me. If he’d wanted me off, off I would have been.

I was yelling NO! as he hopped and I pulled. Ground crew says the No!s were working. Not much, but a bit. No! Maybe? No! Maybe?

I did not feel at any point that I was coming off. I did feel one hop away from that feeling a few times. I had time to wonder what the exit strategy was going to be.

The Whys?
Bad footing? Maybe.

Cold? Possibly. For a Canadian horse, he doesn’t do low temps.

Riding out in “the open”? Who knows.

Did I inadvertently ask him to do lateral work when trying to get past the pole? Maybe, but he was already in a mood.

Was it the new saddlepad? I had tried Milton in a lovely sheepskin halfpad. Day one had been good. Day two moderate. This was day three.

Did he not want to trot around the field again? Clearly.

The Action Items
Can’t control the weather.

Saddle pad is gone. No messing with his tack.

Continue lateral work in hand, where galloping off just means going back to the barn to collect him.

Be mindful of footing issues.

As for riding in the open, that is where the ship of progress took the biggest hit. What I didn’t say in the FCHP post is that I backed out of cross-country schooling.

1) Adding XC to the day would have more than doubled the schooling fee. Walking over a a few jumps would not have been worth the cost.

2) The footing was not bad, given the conditions, but the rain was making the grass slick. Did this count as bad footing for Milton? I didn’t know.

3) I could have walked over a few, like we did last year [Mr. Excitement Regards His Future]. I probably could have trotted (jogged) at one or two really low ones, maybe. I knew I didn’t have it in me to ride forward at the jump and forward away from the jump the way we had done our jumping lesson.

The Upshot
It will be a while before I test the comfort zone again. Fortunately my comfort is zone bigger than it was 4 years ago.

Not as upset with myself as I might be. I stayed on. I got back on. I had a jump lesson. I’ve halfway convinced myself to blame the saddlepad.

We are making progress over stadium jumps. Once we are trotting and cantering those with aplomb, that will remove one of the variables from the XC jumps.

Maybe if my stirrup hadn’t broken four years ago, we’d be further along.

Of course, I wish I was braver and bulletproof. That never stops.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott