Rodney Is Awesome: Attack of the Swimming Noodle

After reading about a groundwork competition in France [Equifeel Championnat Départemental], we decided to try Rodney with the turn on the forehand in a circle. The idea is to put the horses forefeet (or hindfeet) in a prescribed area, then do a full orbit while keeping the two feet within the circle. We (the barn “we”) joined two swim noodles into a ~3′ circle.

I held it up for Rodney to sniff. No big deal. Since he has proven amenable about the noodles in the past [Noodling, Weekend], I upped the ante. Slid it right over his head. I do NOT recommend trying this with most horses. Previous Horse would have had a litter of kittens. Mathilda would have zoomed backward out of the barn before you got close.

As the noodle ring settled around his shoulders, Rodney’s head came up and his eyes bugged out. But he stayed put. Despite reservations, he let us spin the ring around his neck. We slid it back and forth. We took it off. We made him reach through it for a treat: cookie! going under weird thing! cookie … weird thing … maybe if I make my nose reeeeeally long I can reach the cookie.

He never got blase about a noodle in the air above his head, but he handled it extremely well. When we finally got back to the original exercise, it was a bit of an anticlimax.

Equine ring toss. Who knew.

Beads. Free To Good Home.

For a project later in the year, I am collecting inexpensive letter beads of A, D, E, G, N, O, R, S, Y. Unfortunately, beads come in units of alphabet. (Oddly, two sets lacked the letter E. Weird.) So, I have a pile of 17 letters for which I have no need. Want ’em?

beads

To repeat, the beads are of costume quality at best. Some are decidedly cheesy. One bag was $1 at Big Lots, a discount resale store. We’re not talking Murano glass here. If you are interested, please email me (Katherine) at rodneyssaga@gmail.com. Unless you have a work-around for the postage, offer limited to the US.

If you wish to trade these beads for ones with required letters, or with horse themes, that would be lovely. The goofier the better.

Project to be revealed Sunday, August 31, 2014. At least one person out there knows what’s up … (waves hi) … insert suspense music.

Life Hacks: Can Opener

You have cats? Dogs? Critters who eat food from tins? Have you tried a safety can opener?

can top

I would have sneered at the idea as a useless fad until my father gave me one. I now use it on every can. If it is not to hand, I’ll tear the kitchen apart, ignoring our traditional can openers in my quest.

The mechanism uncrimps the rim of the can, leaving a smooth, harmless surface on can and lid. Cat food cans are given to the dogs as clean-up treats. Lids are rinsed off without slicing fingers in a sacrifice to the gods of recycling. Plus, the unit never touches food, so no grungy cutting wheels.

can bottom

It takes a while to get the angle exactly right. For the longest time, I had my dexterous, non-catperson Chef open the nightly cat tuna. I remember my father pulling it out of his suitcase during a trip to Chicago, so I know we’ve had it since 2007. No sign of wear or failure.

Mine is a Zyliss, but any brand would work.

Rhyme photobombs my photography studio.
Rhyme photobombs my photography studio.

Foto Friday: Or Not

Still haven’t gotten started on the photo project [Recommitment]. Or written any more Off Topic posts. I’ve even fallen off on gratuitous cat snapshots. Where will the Internet find cute cat pictures if I don’t supply them?

I couldn’t begin to tell you where my time goes. Folks out there have careers and compete. I don’t have a job and ride once a week. Free time ought to be accumulating around me like dust bunnies.

Part of the delay is hopeless despair brought on by professional envy. One of the riders at our barn is professional photographer Meg McKinney [website, Facebook]. Last weekend, she took photos at the show. (She was off grounds for my classes. I’m in the background for one but ain’t gonna tell you. I look awful.) Show album here. The choice of subjects. The timing. The focus. The composition. The color. The … everything. This is what happens when one has a real photographer behind the wheel.

With practice, I can get better. I’ll never be good. Not like that. You could give me a camera set-up that costs more than my car, a year of intense instruction, and I still wouldn’t be a visually expressive person.

Grumble. Gripe. Grouse.

Perhaps next week the life fairy will fly through with magnetic pixie dust that magically pulls my act together.

At least Rodney is having a good time.
At least Rodney is having a good time.