Grazing Flashback

While my crack carpenter was redoing one of the walls to Rodney’s new stall, I had to keep Mathilda out of the barn and occupied. I forgot how tiring grazing can be. It’s unfathomable. Stand here. Hold horse. Read book. What is hard about that? It’s exhausting.

cov Heinlein RobinsonSince Rodney was also out, I didn’t want to get deeply engrossed in Strange Stones: Dispatches from East and West by Peter Hessler [Harper 2013]. Since Hessler is in the running to be my new writing model, I both read the essays and attempt to figure out how he did it. For a grazing book, I switched to Variable Star by Robert Heinlein and Spider Robinson [Tor 2006]. The plot points seemed familiar as they passed by. I couldn’t tell if I had read the book before and forgotten it, or have just read so much Heinlein that I can predict what is going to happen.

Rain Games

When it came time to take Rodney for his morning walk, an unnamed tropical mess was dropping massive amounts of rain from an upended bucket. Warm water, no wind, no flash bangs. Well, says I, eventing definitely happens in the rain. Jumpers and dressage may also. Off we go. I put on the Halter of Doom and headed out the door.

The trip as narrated by Rodney:
On the threshold, ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
Out in the deluge with twisted ears and a crunched up head/neck, ‘Us fancy jumper-type horses don’t do unpleasant weather.’
Passing under a tree branch, ‘Can we stay here until it dries up a bit?’

That’s one thing I’ve always liked about Rodney. Under the fuss and stew, he is essentially a lazy horse. He motivates more off a push than a pull. In the rain, he didn’t jig or bolt or spin. He simply slugged along and wanted it to be over. I can communicate much better with a horse who needs to be given a reason to move than one who requires tact and sensitivity to keep the lid on.

He’s also bold. We stopped at the edge of a temporary rushing streamlet. I thought he was uncertain. No, he checked it out to see if the water was worth a drink and then plopped his feet smack in the middle as he walked through. I know this doesn’t automatically translate to water jumps, but it’s a good start.

I would have tried for a picture of the drowned rat brigade but it would have required an underwater camera.

By the second day, he was simply resigned to whatever the crazy lady was doing to him now.

—
New York Times Crossword, Saturday July 6, 2013.
25 Down: Dressage half-turn.
Answer: CARACOLE.

Salute

I have the world’s most amazingly wonderful husband. What else can you say about a guy who will take three days of his four-day holiday weekend to renovate the barn so his wife’s oversized Thoroughbred can have a bigger stall?

This is more in the nature of a Facebook post than a blog post. I’m so tickled. You will have to bear with me.

—
New York Times Crossword, Saturday July 6, 2013.
25 Down: Dressage half-turn.
Answer tomorrow.

Form Does Not Follow Function

Although originally used to train riders, equitation has evolved into a hyper-stylized discipline that is an end in itself.

After my regrettable class at our fun show [Report], I have been feeling that my riding is in a rut. That I have gone as far as I can in saddleseat on good looks & charm. That I have gotten to the point where I am making the same mistakes I make on any horse. That I need to fix some fundamental error in the way I ride.

When Instructor and I were going over my show photos from the last big show [photo location given in Report], she said that I as far as horse guidance went, I rode just fine. If I were in a suit class – where rider position does not count – we wouldn’t bother picking these nits. She has said this before [Times Change]. I finally heard it.

I’m a good rider. Why is this so hard to say? Sure, I’m not Olympic level, but neither am I terrible. I can make the majority of horses go approximately where I want at approximately the pace I want. There is no deep tragic flaw that requires me to reinvent the wheel nor to reorganize my universe.

With a suitable horse, I could do a local hunter class or a low-level cross-country course almost immediately. With a nice horse and some ramp-up time, I could go further. I can accomplish a lot just the way I am. However, if I wish to engage in the particular activity that is equitation, I must add on the specific skills required for that endeavor. Similar to learning the order of the letters around the outside of a dressage ring.

It’s not rocket science. Why do I keep trying to make it such? This is meant with no disrespect to riding. Per Wofford, it’s simple; it’s just not easy.

Form Follows Function

The theory behind equitation is that the ideal riding position is the most effective one. Therefore small lapses in position indicate deeper flaws.

Instructor and I finally sat down to critique my photos from the last show [photo location given in Report]. In all of them, my left stirrup is too close to the toe and at an angle, instead of being solidly across the ball of my foot. No big deal. The foot position and rest of the leg was fine. However, it was the type of small detail that might knock me down a place at the National Finals.

At the lesson that day, I spared a thought for what was going on down at the end of my left leg. I realized that I was reaching for the stirrup ever so slightly with my foot. This probably means that I am ever so slightly contracted along the left side and that my weight is ever so slightly off center to the right.