Alfalfa hay? Shredded money? Is there a difference?
Poll Results
The people have spoken. Unanimously. It’s okay for me to wander about, narratively speaking. [For those who missed last week, I posted on a completely non-equine topic, Seven Life Lessons Learned From Candy Crush, and then asked for opinions on doing so, Off Topic: Yay or Nay?]
I received two further pieces of advice:
+Go with Off Topic posts but not too often. Given the 3-month time-lag between posts over on my Off Topic blog, this should not be a problem.
+Keep the Off Topic posts but add an explanatory paragraph. Done. The Candy Crush post has been updated. A similar intro will be included with other OT posts.
Thanks.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Gratuitous Cat Pic

Show Tweets: Winter Tournament 3, Leeds AL
Last year, I showed late in the afternoon. This year, I rode first thing in the morning. I was finished within an hour of the show starting. Therefore, my stress level during the lunch break was way different.
This should have been attached:

Not a stellar picture, but the tweet would have made more sense.
Show Report: Winter Tournament 3, Leeds AL
Well, that was a struggle. Not the show. My rides were standard horse show classes. The day itself was a struggle.
Friday
My car is in the shop. Ironic, given yesterday’s repost suggesting a car for a trouble-free existence. Anyway. Last week, I was in a pissy mood. This was attributed to my being stuck out in the boonies sans transport. By Friday, it was clear that part of my attitude came from a bug in the system. No obvious ailment, but I spent the day huddled in bed trying to stay warm.
Previously, I had arranged to drive to the barn Saturday morning, travel with the horses, and stay the day at the show. On Friday, I decided to meet at the show, ride, & come right home. If I am willing to cut short a horse show, I must be sick. Oh, I was still planning to ride, I wasn’t that sick.
This may have been one reason I wasn’t stressing.
Saturday
Woke up feeling much better. Decided to stay with the plan to drive in case I changed my mind. Started the packing for which I didn’t have the energy the day before. Only to have Mathilda spike a mild fever and refuse treats. Haven’t we been here before [Back: updates]?
Her chief minion tempted her with grazing. I ran to the store to stock up on carrots. Some grass. No dice on carrots. Never a good sign from her. She was clammy either from sweat or from lying down. Remembering my day under the covers, I heated two of Rodney’s back pads to cover her with warmth and wool. We also discovered that she had scrapped her fetlock in getting up. Mild, but it had to sting. We put on suitable goo. After about 45 minutes – whether from coincidence or supportive care – her fever had edged down & she was lipping hay. I left for the show, promising to return ASAP.
Driving to the show, I had to wonder if the universe was trying to send me a message. Every one of the three Winter Tournament shows has been a struggle to get to. Or not get to.
To finish this thread. As soon as I got done with the classes, I checked my phone. Mathilda was eating hay and leaving nose prints in her grain, if not eating any. Nothing much for me to do. I stayed at the show until my sense of guilt outweighed my sense of usefulness. When I came up the driveway, it was to hear that she was eating her lunch.
Whew.
Advanced Horsemanship WTC Adult – 5th out of 5
New horse for me to show & a mare at that. Maggie was a star.
Finished lower than the last show [Report] but rode better. I remembered to use my outside rein for the canter transitions, got both my leads, and I finished my passes. We haven’t debriefed at a lesson yet, but I don’t think I would have ridden much differently if I had been able to make it out to the barn in the intervening weeks. I still have lots to learn/adjust/adapt, but I didn’t backslide into hunt seat as much as I might have.
OTOH, if I had been riding regularly, I’d have been less sore afterward. Ouch.
Also on the plus side, my instructor thought the judge could have placed me higher without interrupting the time-space continuum & I was the only Academy rider. All in all, I feel better about coming in last than I probably should.

Advanced Equitation WTC Adult (Pattern) – 1st, or last, out of 1
Stayed on Maggie instead of switching to Sam, the SSF pattern horse. As the only rider, I wasn’t trying to beat anyone, just survive the class. Maggie got a little strong on the second canter. Galloping about was kinda fun, but since I was trying to look pretty rather than reach escape velocity, I elected to stop as soon as asked. No extra passes here.
For the pattern, she was as attentive as I could ask for. I got all of the pieces in the right order AND managed to be sufficiently organized to prepare for each piece. Go me. Granted, it wasn’t the most elegant ride possible. Smoothness was not optimal. While saddleseat allows for voice cues, I don’t think that means yelling HO! to obtain the middle halt. Ah well, first ya gotta do, then you do it fancy.
Ironically, it was a better than many of my dressage tests, as I was riding a well-schooled lesson horse rather than a mildly-trained, recalcitrant OTTB. When I got it right, the horse got it right. Immediate positive reinforcement.

Judge’s Opinion
When I lined up for the second class, the judge came over to tell me that I had, “The most beautiful riding legs.” To which the correct response was “Thank you.” rather than “So, last place? WTF?”
If my leg is technically correct, and I have no reason to believe otherwise, that leaves me with two questions:
1) What sort of disaster zone is my upper body?
2) I’ve always liked my legs. They’ve always done what I want. Do I like them because they do what I want or do they do what I want because I like them?
Photo
No pictures of us. Maggie in her driving togs at an earlier show. Photo originally appeared in Been There, Done That: Still more Winter Tournament. L to R, Courtney Huguley, Kathie Mautner, Maggie.
Roscoe’s Lament
I’m feeling punk, so I’m rerunning a post from an earlier iteration of the blog. At this point, Rodney had been with us for two months & was still named Roscoe.
Roscoe’s Lament
(With apologies to Theodor Seuss Geisel)
I don’t like my shoe, the one on the right.
A nail in the front is a little too tight.
Call up the man and remove it, please do.
I’ll stick my foot in a bucket and leave you to stew.
I know that you hope I will be a star,
For a life with no griefs, go buy a car.
The poem – or attempt thereof – originally appeared as part of a column for the USEA, Back To Eventing: Part 4, New Horse Blues.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Gratuitous Sunset Pic

Taken during an evening dog walk around the pasture. The embiggened version shows Lady off to the left.
Text Art: Circle Letters
The Olympic rings are trademarked. Rainbow colors are a political statement. Red, white, & blue are nationalistic. Therefore, for no reason at all, letters composed of harmless, monochromatic circles. Coloring left as an exercise for the reader.
Third Time’s the Charm
Today is Winter Tournament #3. Watch for tweets.
Explanation of my intended classes from show #1, Back.
Explanation of where I need to improve from show #2, Report.
As with the previous show, I’ve been on a horse once this month. Last time it was the week before. This time, it was three weeks ago. I’m not overly concerned with forgetting how to ride. I am concerned with forgetting how to ride saddleseat. Eighteen months with American Saddlebreds will evaporate and 30+ years with American Thoroughbreds will take over.
Not sure who I will be riding for Academy Showmanship, but Sam usually gets the pattern class rides. Some horses, such as Trump, will let me slip in a few hunt seat moves. Not Sam. If I sit in the center of the saddle and thump him with my heels, he turns into an up-down lesson pony until I scoot back, lift my hands, and ride him properly. He knows. He just refuses.
My instructor says that I am still allowed to show but I’m not allowed to bitch about my ribbons.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Gratuitous Cat Pic

King of the Laundry



