Virtual Brush Box

Victory Is Ours! Show Report, Alabama Fun Show #3 2018, Heathermoor Farm, Hunt Seat

Home Team

ASHAA Fun Show
Heathermoor Farm
Moody AL, USA
Saturday, September 8, 2018

Milton
30a Academy Open Hunter Pleasure Walk and Trot, 1 of 2
31a Academy Open Hunter Equitation Walk and Trot, 1 of 2

Warm-up
Milton is not afraid of big trailers. He’s been shining us on [NEGA1, NEGA2, SSF]. At Full Circle [Show Report], he stood quietly eating hay while several medium-sized trailers pulled up next to him. At this show, we arrived early so that we could park our little two-horse out of everyone’s way. No one around. I’ll hop on & school in the the nice empty ring. Of course, as soon as we started to tack up, the big rigs arrived. Milton lost his freaking mind.

Yes, the rigs are bigger. Perhaps the environment at the saddle seat barns sends a different vibe than at the dressage show. I doubt it. I would put money on the premise that if Milton had been untacked & eating, he would not have flicked an ear when the rest of the trailers showed up.

Anyway. We eventually got the whirling dervish under control and I had a chance to school in the ring. We walked, giving the side-eye to the announcer’s tent at one end and a tire swing at the other. We even trotted. Still side-eying, but trotting.

First Class
Dilemma. In a hunter flat class, I would hold my stick in my right hand the entire time since that is what I would do on course. In a saddle seat class, one starts with the stick to the left (inside) and switches on the reverse. So, in a hunt seat class at a saddle seat show, do I switch or not? Which tradition applies?

Same with the hands. Hunt seat, down, with whip across the leg? Or saddle seat, up, with whip vertical along the horse’s shoulder?

Before the class, we held an impromptu competitors’ meeting and decided to swap whips. As for my hands, I wobbled between the two.

Since there were two of us, I got to do more trotting than I would have in a solo class.

Second Class
Me: Okay horse, this is an equitation class. That means I look nice while you get on with it.
Horse: Um, Boss. I’m not sure I’m ready to solo here. Boss? Hello?

At the end of the last class, Milton was still looking around more than I would have preferred for his fifth show. He never got over himself the way he did for the second test at the dressage show. He likes Full Circle? I have less interest in, therefore put less pressure on at, dressage shows? Who knows.

OTOH, we did trot longer and with more vim than at the previous two ASB hunt seat shows.

Future
These shows have been great for schooling. Time to step it up. At this point that means the Stepping Stone Farm big ring for cantering & the round pen for jumping while we work on creating an enclosed space at home. Open spaces do not appear to be Milton’s friend. We’ll work on that as well.

Onwards!

Show Posts
Victory Is Ours!
[Resting On One’s Laurels Never Works, Show Report, Alabama Fun Show #3 2018, Heathermoor Farm, Saddle Seat]
[Leaving The Wheels At Home, Show Report, Alabama Fun Show #3 2018, Heathermoor Farm, Driving, Not]
[Wild Horse Goes Walk-Trot, Alabama Fun Show #3 2018, Heathermoor Farm] Show Photos

~~~
Note. I am aware of the date. I have made the conscious blogging decision not to memorialize. 1) Like we are going to forget without my reminder? b, no 2) Where would it stop? There are too many tragedies. 3 or c) How would it help? The best I can do is attempt to distract you with cupcakes [Speaking Out].

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

If The Pin Fits

Tackbox Tidbits

by Letter Hen, on Etsy, on Instagram
Photo shoot at Birmingham Botanical Gardens

Did I use the right photo? Should I have used one with a different background? Or one with this background but with different lighting? Did I crop it correctly? Should I mention that it was a Kickstarter project? And so on.

Because this is me at every horse show … every ride … every day.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

M is for MEPSA

Graphic Design

MEPSA 2017 Championship Results
by Jennifer Cole
Model Equine Photo Showers Association
Photo Shower’s Annual
Cole/Lulu 2018

The model horse project has been pushed so far onto the back burner, I don’t think it’s on the stove anymore. I look at the pretty pictures from the show, and think, ‘Hmmm, maybe.’ Then I read how much work goes into taking quality close-up model shots, Desktop Stables: How I Photograph My Models – Revisited, and I think, ‘Eh, maybe not.’

Since I am now showing Milton (Kermit dance!), I feel less pressure about side projects. If I get to them, I get to them. If not, then not. So, I will continue to buy the annual book [2015, 2016] and use the idea of photo showing as an excuse to buy models [Fire 2015, Peppermint Kiss & Sam 2016, Illumination 2018].

Note to self, because in six months, I’m going to wonder where these came from. In order, from lower left corner, [My First Model] [Spotted at Sunset] [Banquet Photos] [Eclipse Party] [Spotted at Sunset] [Spotted at Oak Mountain State Park] [I’m Baaaaaack … With Camera] [Frankenhorse] [Spotted on the Green Shavings] [Life Choices] [Show Report: ASAC, Clemson, SC] [Models Rule].

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

In Which I Consider Adults Playing With Toys

Writing

Breyer models, LEGO sets, My Little Pony knickknacks. I certainly have no trouble admitting to childlike enthusiasms. Some adults have trouble admitting, or get grief when they do. I’ve read about model horse aficionados who don’t tell their co-workers about the live show they attended over the weekend. MLP bronies get a raw deal. Unless I go to a LEGO store, I gotta shop in the kids aisle.

Why?

If a humanoid form is made of plastic and costs $10, it is a toy. If a humanoid form is made of china and costs $1000, it is an objet d’art.

Who determines these things? Is there a Board of Toys?

One of the best parts of being adult – aside from being done with school – is the ability to impulse purchase a shiny, pretty, transparent blue horse model in the gift shop of the Kentucky Horse Park. No nagging of adults. No waiting for Christmas. From want to have in the time it takes to run a credit card.

So what? I’m not doing it in the streets and alarming the horses. Why does it matter if spend money on toys or on decorator pillows?

As I kid, my big deal was stuffed animals. I had over a 100. All sizes. All species. Didn’t matter. Now that I am ~~hoarding~~ giving houseroom to live animals, my need for the stuffed variety has declined. As an adult kid, I have a handful of Breyers, more than a handful of LEGO bricks, and a smattering of MLP. While I’m fond of these, they remain side enthusiasms to the aforementioned live animals.

What childhood toys have you discovered, rediscovered, never left behind?

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Low Key Photo Challenge: Toys

Photography

Theme: Toys

Illumination
Breyer model #1799
“Nokota was introduced in 2007. The mold name refers to a feral and semi-feral breed of horse native to the North Dakota badlands. It was sculpted by Kathleen Moody and is Breyer mold #1279.”
Identify Your Breyer: Nokota

Progress Notes
Big camera! On manual! Pressed many buttons! Took way more shots than I do with phone! Dunno why.

Procedure for Low Key Photo Challenge
1) I post a photo on a given theme.
2) You comment below with a link to your photo on that theme.
3) We all click over to see what you have.

That’s it. No prizes. No rules. No submissions. For more explanation, see [Inaugural Edition].

Previous Challenges
[Hello!]
[Labor]

Update [In Which I Consider Adults Playing With Toys]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Kitten Report, Piles O’ Kitten

Home Team

14 weeks last Saturday.

First they added length, like little kitten-shaped Dachshunds. Then they grew legs. Now they are bulking up. From an aesthetic point of view, I’m a little concerned about their heads. They have adorable kitten-sized skulls, which don’t seem to be growing. Will we end up with adorable kitten-sized heads on cat bodies?

The kittens have turned into full-on purr machines. They purr when I pat them. They purr when I pick them up. They purr when they decide I am a large, oddly-shaped kitten and dog-pile (cat-pile?) on me.

Still no names. Three-quarter tail thinks she (he?) might like to be called Princess, but isn’t sure. Long Tail & the Stubbies remain as before.

Lots of sleeping kitten photos.
1) They are fast when awake.
b) My house is enough of a hot mess that I don’t like having it show up in the background of photos.
3 or c) I’m trying to enjoy the moment rather than obsessing about catching the moment on film. So to speak.
Mostly, they are too fast for me.

Still haven’t see a pattern in who plays/sleeps with whom. Lots of two and three kitten piles. Not many 4 piles or 2+2 piles. Usually 3+1 or 2+1+1. If a kitten is off alone, it is often Long Tail. The male Stubby is the most likely to be meowing because he has lost everyone.

A friend was visiting when the pseudo-Siamese were young [Gratuitous Kittycake]. (That may have been the last time my house was in an acceptable condition for company. But I digress.) She said, “They look like popcorn.” These guys even more so. Apparently the accepted way to great one’s sibling is to leap high in the air with one’s front paws spread wide. Whaaa!

They are adapting to the dogs and other cats. Dogs and kittens ignore each other, by and large. The kittens are fascinated with the cats. The cats not so much. Much hissing and staring down from tall objects. The kittens are appropriately submissive to the cats. When reprimanded, they hunch down and back off. But they don’t back off far. I foresee bolder gestures of friendship in the offing.

The cats have a point. I was doing something on a table. All four kittens came to check me out. That’s a lot of eyes suddenly staring at you.

They are also fascinated with the bathroom, particularly the bathtub. The surest way to get all four together is to take a seat on the throne. They all come running in to bounce in and out of the tub, slid off the side, and play ruffle games with the shower curtain.

They are not jumping yet, but are climbing like squirrels. They’ve conquered great heights by climbing everything they can.

Note: As before, photos are in chronological order, not necessarily bearing any relation to the surrounding text. The border is taken from the tummy color in the four-kitten photo, not the color of the laundry hamper. I felt that needed to be said.

Previous
1 Our New Four-In-Hand
2 Kitten Report, No Toe Games

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

When the Stirrup Swings

Tackbox Tales, Adventures in Saddle Seat

Still no saddle seat. Reminiscing instead.
~~~

It was 2014. I was riding in my second National Academy finals. I had moved up to walk-trot-canter, which wasn’t as much of a big deal for me as it is for the average Academy student, I suspect.

I don’t remember which class it was. There wasn’t the feeling of infinte possibility, so not the first day. I wasn’t overcome with despair when it happened, so not the Eq Final pictured above. Probably one of the Saturday classes. [Show Report, list of posts]

I do remember exactly were we were in the arena. Right at the end of the ring, going past the in/out gate in the first direction. Details like that stay in your brain.

We had cantered. We were walking. I felt my left – i.e. inside – stirrup slip off my foot.

Crap.

I have a good leg position, which translates to my feet staying were they are supposed to be. I rarely lose my stirrups. However, when I do, they stay gone. Earlier that year, I had manged to lose both at a fun show. [Show Report]. This was Nationals. I couldn’t exactly pull up and fish around for a misplaced bit of metal.

So there I was, foot hanging in the breeze. We walked. They called for the reverse. ‘Okay,’ I think, ‘At least the judges won’t be able to see that I’ve lost my stirrup.’ Nationals may have three judges, but they are all in the middle of the ring. Sins committed on the outside are not visible.

I was on Sam, so I wasn’t worried about staying on for the trot or canter. I was worried about keeping myself from looking lopsided when posting with one stirrup. (One is actually harder than none. Try it sometime.)

As we swung around, the stirrup slipped neatly back on my foot. Off we went.

That was four years ago. I can still feel the stirrup sliding off and sliding back on.

Thank you for reading.
Katherine Walcott