Horses & Other Interests
My first Lettering Guest Artist is my step-brother, Rainer Arndt. Once, we were a team in Pictionary. When he drew and I guessed, we were unstoppable. He could render the object in a few lines. When I drew & he guessed, he couldn’t identify my drawing even when he knew what I was aiming at. Welcome Rainer.
Rainer on Rodney’s Saga
Happy Rubber Ducky Day
Your veterinary spray malfunctions.
For those of you who do not go through life with purple hands: Gentian Violet at The Mayo Clinic & at NIH.
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As motivation in support of my resolution to work on my photography [Hello 2016!], a gallery of a dozen past photos that I don’t actively hate.
Of course I know my accident could have been far, far worse [Report, Not].
Of course I know the right thing was to stay home from the show.
Of course I know that being rear-ended means I need to be extra careful with the possibility of neck and spine damage.
Can’t I be wistful on the day, imagining everyone at the show without me?
Can’t I sniffle at the Facebook photo of Sam posing with all of his riders?
Can’t I be stir-crazy that recuperation takes longer than you think it will?
Can’t I be both?
I did not ride at the second Winter Tournament show last Saturday. Car accident. No transportation. I’m fine.
The accident happened Thursday night, with no traffic, on a major four-lane road. I was driving harmlessly along, heading home, thinking about stopping at the grocery store to pick up canned cat food. The other car drove straight into my back-end. I was going maybe 50 mph. The other driver was going 60? 70? This sounds dramatic, but the lack of vector differential significantly reduced the effective force.
The other car, a Honda Fit, spun wildly, ended up far off the road, and had a completely crumpled front end. Driver was up and fine. My valiant little Fiat 500 stopped in a straight line on the side of the road with a broken fender and dented trunk. After the deputy sheriff Hulked-out the piece of plastic rubbing one of the rear tires, I was able to drive home!
I don’t know if going home was the right answer. Once I did that, I had no way to get anywhere. I had no idea how deep the damage was. Car wasn’t moving again until headed for the shop. My husband’s car was at the airport. However, solving possible tow/taxi/rental issues at 11:30 at night did not appeal. All I wanted to do was creep home and pull up the drawbridge.
This meant I was stuck carless at home for 2 1/2 days. In more serious circumstances, there are people I could call who would be glad to help. I was fine. The house had enough food. Sitting quietly was a sensible response. Boring, but sensible.
Probably just as well I did not go to the show. It would not have been my A-game. I was very fortunate, but being subject to that much kinetic energy left me stiff and sore. Plus the adrenalin backwash took at least a day to work out of my system. So I sat.
Clearly, the ones who suffered most were the cats. Nothing but dry food all weekend. We were low on dog food, but I made up the difference with enough people food that they didn’t mind.
Over at the show, my schedule would have been the same as last month [Report]: three riding classes, one driving. The non-equitation classes had 12 entries. I had been looking forward to seeing if my showmanship had improved enough to get us noticed in the crowd. I had high hopes for the equitation class. The main movement of the new pattern is a canter circle that I ride as a jumper roll-back. In lessons, I was knocking it out of the park.
I mention the accident here because when the Winter Tournament banquet rolls around, my inner competitor will have a fit. She wants all! the! ribbons! I will need to remind her that I missed a show. I will need to reminding her why I missed a show. Won’t matter. Bitch has tunnel vision.
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Greg (husband): You aren’t doing anything with Milton. I’m going to make him my driving horse.
Katherine (me): Have you lost your mind?
G: He’s athletic. He’s competitive. He’ll love it.
K: Thoroughbreds don’t drive. Have you ever seen a Thoroughbred at a Combined Driving competition?
G: Our friend J drove a sleigh through the snow with his Thoroughbred stallion. So-and-so mentioned that her a Thoroughbred gelding loved to drive.
K: Okay, a handful. You hear about it because it’s unusual. The Internet has videos of jumping Clydesdales. Should I get one as my next jumper?
G: Milton lunges. He long lines. He’s happy wearing Mathilda’s old blinkers [Driving Miss M].
K: What happens if he has a Thoroughbred moment while pulling a cart?
G: We’ll let him tell us if he wants to do it. We’ll keep going until he says no. Or yes.
K: What the green thing?
G: I made a breastcollar out of webbing (Strapworks.com) for proof-of-concept. We’ll see how he feels about the idea of pulling before we invest in harness. Think of it as a trial run.
K: Funny you should use the word ‘run’. Is it a good idea to take a horse with a history of galloping into the sunset [Universe] and tie him up with indestructible straps?
G: It has breakways, like Rodney’s reins [Headgear]. We’ll get leather before anyone’s ass is on the line.
K: I have to admit, you do good work.
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Rodney’s nose is out of joint. Now that Milton is less of an equus non grata, he is getting more attention. Rodney thinks this is coming out of his total. Rodney thinks life is a zero sum game.
I’ve sat them down together – figuratively – and explained that this is a team event. What is good for one is good for both. Let’s say Milton galloped around the AEC in North Carolina this year, to pick an example at random. My resulting good humor would benefit every living thing within shouting distance. Milton would get seriously spoiled, and so would Rodney.
This is the first time I’ve had two horses. There were times that I was lucky enough to have a second ride, for example, with Party Manners [Yin, photo], and with George [Sidesaddle, photo]. In both cases, the horse was cared for and ridden by the owner. With Previous Horse and Mathilda, Previous Horse came first. Period. If I rode him first, he would wander off to graze in another part of the pasture while I rode Mathilda. If I dared to ride Mathilda first, PH would strafe us. Seriously. He would canter up next to us and start kicking. Plus Mathilda belonged to Greg. Soothing her ego was his job.
It will be interesting to balance Rodney and Milton. Both horses have high opinions of themselves. Both horses expect the world to agree.
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Virtual Brush Box 