Counting Down The Days Shetland Style

Photography

 

An advent calendar featuring the adorable ponies and gorgeous landscapes of My Shetland. Or I assume will feature. Haven’t see all the days yet.

It’s too late to order one. Mine took a week & a half to swim over from Shetland. Plus, she doesn’t seem to be doing the online version this year. So why am I waving this under your nose if you can’t have one?

First, it’s a clever way to sell one’s photography. It’s a twist on the endless cups and calendars and computer mousepads.

Second, it’s a chance to tell you about her blog: six rescued Shetland ponies whose main job appears to be eating carrots and mugging for the camera; an active Icelandic horse breeding program which translates to foal photos each year; plus sheep, dogs, and cats; as well as sunsets, clouds, and waves. It’s a Shetland vacation without the hassle of air travel.

If you don’t follow her yet, trot on over, and check it out, My Shetland. Be sure to sure not to miss Shetland Ponies in Sweaters.

As usual, no deals. No collaboration with the creator. Bought calendar. Liked it. Wanted to tell you about it. (And yes, feed the insatiable maw that is a daily blog.)

Day 1

Happy Advent!

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

The Lines Between Life and Blog are Blurring

Jumping

The jumping clinic that I mentioned last week [A Small Jump Forward] was delayed on account of rain. I am busy on the new date. My ground crew will go & report back.

First thought: Darn. I was looking forward to that. Now I’ll miss it.

Quickly followed by ….

Second thought: Darn. Now what can I use for Jumping Thursday?

It’s a good attitude for generating blog posts. Not as sure that it is a good way to go through life.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

The Second Day of Progress is Never As Good As The First

Adventures in Saddle Seat

 

Sam

Two weeks ago, I had an great lesson. Big changes. Huge potential for better riding and better ribbons [Making Adjustments]. Last week’s lesson was … good. This was inevitable.

1) Solidifying progress is never as much fun as the initial discovery.

2) You get on and immediately want everything to be awesome again. However, your last memory is from the end of the lesson. You forget all the steps that got you to that point, which you now must recreate.

3) You’ve probably inflated how well it went. A wee bit. Butterflies did not in fact descend in droves to bear you aloft on their wings.

4) If you tried to recreate it at home on your own horses, you may have let error creep in.

5) Beforehand to the first lesson was a much bigger contrast than from the first lesson to the second. Doesn’t look as remarkable.

6) Things take time. Everything takes more time than you want. Everything that is important to you takes more time than you want because you want to do it well.

Onwards!

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Considering Milton

Milton’s signature move is to lick and chew while pinning his ears.

What’s up with that?

Milton doesn’t like to be touched. We’ve ruled out the physical reasons. His skin feels smooth and clean. No rough spots, no scruff. The hair lays down as it should. He doesn’t quite shed dirt the way Rodney does but Rodney is greasy enough to qualify as a seal. You know, the good kind of greasy that means a healthy, shiny, happy coat.

Milton loves attention. One of his favorite activities is to hang with his people. You can touch, pat, & cuddle Milton all over his head. However, anything behind the ears is a no-go zone. If you continue to touch him, lets say brushing him because he has plastered the mud on with a trowel, he will eventually give you all kinds of releases, with the ears still back. If you massage him, he will threaten to kick you and then yawn.

Can horses be conflicted? I guess so, because Milton certainly is.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

New Tank Syndrome with Rodney

View from the mounting block.

 

Since Rodney did more work than Milton last week, he goes first in the posts.

Rodney remains Very Excited about being in a new place [Weekend Voyages]. Therefore, we worked on an exercise that is Very Easy for him.

During the week, we went over our Stand, which has been going well for him lately [Switching Horses]. For this, I sit on the mounting block, Rodney stands next to it. Then, I get on. Rodney continues to stand. He nailed it. Twenty minutes unmounted, ten minutes mounted. Did an outstanding impression of a happy statue. The only reason I stopped was running out of time or daylight. The photo is from our practice at home. None from SSF. Once again, I forgot to take a picture in medias res.

Over the weekend, we shipped back to Stepping Stone Farm. I hauled the mounting block up to the big ring and took a seat. He stood. I sat. He fussed. We sat/stood a while longer. I sat on him. He walked off. We walked. I got off. Sat. He stood. On. Off. Stand. Sit. Walk. And so on. And so on. The tiniest bit of work at the walk and a few steps of walking on a long rein.

When I think about how this sounds from the POV of the average person who rides regularly, I feel slow and stupid. When I think about the progress we made since last week, I feel like a brilliant horse trainer. The reality is probably somewhere in between.

In the category of Horses As Individuals, Rodney does not have Milton’s preferences for the different rings at SSF. Milton feels safe in the covered, enclosed small ring; comfortable in the fenced-in big ring; and not at all comfortable outside of the ring. Rodney doesn’t seem to care. Little ring, big ring, it’s all the same. He is much more occupied with scoping out the new place and the residents. I have not ridden him outside the ring yet, but I suspect it would be the same.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Arrogant Whine, the Opposite of a Humble Brag

It’s hard to complain about good fortune, but I’ll give it a go.

I wanted to be able to take Rodney places [Dubious Future]. I can now take Rodney places [Weekend Voyages]. Great. Wonderful. Terrific. I can’t ride him once I get there.

It’s showing Milton all over again. Yes, I am showing my horse. Great. Wonderful. Terrific. I had hoped to be doing more than bad walk-trot at the smallest of competitions [Wild Horse Goes Walk-Trot, For This I Cleaned My Tack?].

Load a horse on a trailer. Go somewhere. Have a lesson. Ride in a show. People do this all the time. I used to do this all the time. That was before I met these two.

I feel as if I am stuck in a benign version of The Monkey’s Paw. I’m getting exactly what I asked for but not at all what I had in mind.

Is it the rider? Undoubtedly. I wish I could wave a wand and become bolder. Is it the horse? Also, yes. With both of them, every step of progress has to be chipped out of granite. Does it matter? No. We have to work with the strengths and weaknesses of the team we have.

I’m not asking for overnight success. I know lessons can be frustrating and shows can go badly. I just want to be able to try: lessons, clinics, a Training Level dressage test, a local jumper show, maybe even a backyard event. I want to see hope and smell daylight. I want to get my foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. Right now, I’m wandering around in a dark basement wondering if I left the ladder in the garage.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott