Virtual Brush Box

The Downside of Being Mobile

You would think that I would be thrilled to be vehicularized once more [Wheels]. I am. However, it is dawning on me that life is not all beer and skittles.

Errands
Honey, would you get hay tomorrow morning? Oh, wait. That’s right. I can get hay. Any time. And unload it. All by myself. I can’t be an empowered 21st century woman and expect my husband to do all the heavy lifting, can I? No really, I’m asking, can I? I’m madly trying to think of a logic that works here. No such luck.

Exercise
I am back in the pool. After this long, the best I can manage is 10 minutes, maybe 15 with lots of breaks. Locate non-barn, muggle clothes. Dress. Drive. Change. Swim. Reverse process. Seems like an awful lot of work for not much return.

Ennui
For seven months, I’ve had an automatic excuse. I can’t socialize, volunteer, otherwise participate in the outside world because I can’t get there. So I fell into a rut. Now, the excuse is gone. The rut lingers on. It reminds me of the time I broke my ankle. I was delighted to get off the crutches and into a walking cast. No one warned me that being allowed to walk on it was different than wanting to walk on it. Ow. Ow. Ow. So, my isolation crutch is gone. Now I have to start walking again. Metaphorically. Psychological-ow. Psychological-ow. Psychological-ow.

Update
The fourth E would be Exposure [Dunno, scroll to end].

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

A Wordless Short, More Show Photos, Winter Tournament 2018-19 #3

Adventures in Saddle Seat

No lesson since the show [Report]. So, a few more of Deb’s photos [A Wordless Story]. This time of Sam & me. Welcome back, Deb.

I know I said wordless, but I have to point this out. Did you notice that she got me *just* as I was swinging into the saddle? You can tell by the small amount of daylight between me & the horse and that my butt is still off center. Nice timing!

Now that I’m talking, the first two are of me getting on for warm up. The last is me readjusting my stirrup after swapping with one of Sam’s other riders.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

When Life Gives You Rain

Jumping Diary

You make an impromptu, introductory water jump.

Puddle. Puddle with pole in front. Puddle with pole in middle. Milton never refused. He did skirt the edge of the water once or twice. More in the manner of, ‘Hey Boss, did you know we can get around this?’ When he got the idea that straight through was the way to go, I got a distinct impression of, ‘These people are weird.’ With much wandering at his own pace, much sniffing of water, and lots of praise, Milton progressed. I think he liked learning a lesson and liked being good at something.

I, on the other hand, see only my flaws on the video, i.e. drawing my leg back to kick, piano hands expert enough to qualify as a Steinway. Override much? I am tugging the right rein to keep Milton from veering off to the barn, which you can see in the distance.

Once again [Cantering This Way and That], no actual jumps, but a first step.

Blogging note: I had to add a Cross-Country tag. Woo-hoo.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Which Way Should I Go? Trailering Poll

On the trip to Stepping Stone Farm there are two turns I hate. Deal with or avoid? Overall, the trip is easy. It is less than 20 miles on low-traveled, country back roads. There is one stoplight.

The first turn I hate is at a T-intersection on the way to the barn. Traffic from the right is on a curve. Not a bad curve nor a blind curve, but a curve none the less. A driver at a moderate speed and/or a driver paying attention would have no trouble seeing me pull out.

At the stop sign. I stop. I look. I roll down the passenger window to listen for oncoming traffic. This works when I am driving the truck by itself. With the trailer, it takes so long to get moving off the slight hill, that a car has time to come around the turn. At which point, I either keep going and hope they stop OR stop in the middle of the intersection and hope any traffic from the left can stop in time. Neither is a good option. The alternative is to go down the road to turn at a nice, open 4-way stop. The detour is 1.3 miles.

The second turn is into our driveway. We have to swing wide to avoid putting trailer wheel in the roadside ditch. This puts the truck and trailer in the oncoming lane briefly. As above, there is a moderate curve. To avoid this, I go around the block so that I can turn left into the driveway. This way, the turn is already wide. The traffic behind you knows about you. The traffic in front can see you. The detour is 2.5 miles.

Although the mileage is short, the detours feel long because I have left the direct path. Am I being a weenie? OTOH, what is a few minutes to avoid an accident? Then again, if I go a few miles/minutes for a better route, what is the limit? 5 miles? 10? 20? There may come a time when I can’t avoid a tricky bit of driving. Should I learn to cope now?

Thank you for reading & advising,
Katherine Walcott

Portrait of A Photographer

On My Mind, Miscellaneous Visuals

Photo of me by Meg McKinney [posts] from a field trip to Bessemer, AL, during a recent photo class [Mural, Trail]. Cropped by me to remove other class members, at least one of whom does not like their picture taken. Added border & watermark.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Cold Weather Riding Is Like Dating

On My Mind, Miscellaneous Thoughts

As I get older, I am less amused by riding in extreme conditions, such as pouring rain, freezing cold, or after two hours of sleep. I CAN. I just don’t WANT to. I don’t think aging brings limits as much as it brings an increasing list of things up with which I will not put.

So, I have been trying to decide my lower limit for cold weather riding. Half my age is still extreme. I’m 56 years old. I’m not riding at 28 degrees. Who am I kidding.

Yes, yes, it’s cold where you live. You are laughing at me as you trudge to the barn, in the snow, uphill both ways. I’ve lived in cold places. I’ve ridden in lessons where the instructor disappears under a pile of coats as we shed them. In those climates, the buildings, the barns, the clothes, the footing, all the necessities and amenities of life are designed for unfriendly temperatures. I’m sure my numbers would be different if I lived in a state that didn’t freak out at the sight of the first snowflake. But I digress.

Dating rules – so I hear – place a lower limit at half your age plus seven. That works. That means riding at 35 degrees and above. No longer freezing. With a sunny day and low wind, I might get in a nice hack before my toes file a protest.

What is your lower limit, either for riding or dating?

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

A Wordless Story, Show Photos, Winter Tournament 2018-19 #3

Pleasure Driving

You’ve met Meg [posts]. Now meet Deb. (Waves hi.) Deb Kesecker is Meg’s student in a photojournalism class. Meg sent Deb to the horse show [Show Report] on Saturday with the assignment to take pictures that tell a story. By chance, I was one of the people Deb met at the show. I graciously ~~threw myself in front of her camera~~ allowed myself to be used as a test subject. Here is Deb’s photo story of my driving class with Chappie [Cuteness On The Hoof]. Welcome Deb.