Virtual Brush Box

Authorized Assistance

For me, the weirdest part of a saddleseat show is the yelling from the sidelines. In dressage and eventing, you get eliminated for Unauthorized Assistance (usually, see below). In Hunters, a little mild correction might occur as the riders pass the ingate. At the show last weekend, particularly at the Beginner levels, every coach and assistant coach in the place was helping as loud as she could. I was told to change diagonals, sit back, hands up, pass wide, look forward on the straightaways, and so on. Multiply that by every rider in the class. The next time I do a dressage test or a hunter class, I will suffer abandonment issues. Some commentary is acceptable in jumpers, but I probably wouldn’t hear you.

Un/Authorized Assistance Story
Years back, I was flailing my way around a cross-country course. I was miles out of the ribbons and in danger of elimination. As I came at a log jump for the second? third? time, my friend & coach yelled “KICK!”. Over we went and on to the next. The fence judge just smiled.

Today’s Question
For those of you who have done saddleseat, like the sideline coaching? Dislike? Found it odd to cross over to or away from?

Second Saddleseat Show

Results
2nd & 1st. As with last time, I was overly huntseat in the first class, which I corrected in the second.

First Class
The Good: I wasn’t “busy” and I didn’t downshift until the corners.

The Bad: Still leaning forward. When I do sit back, there is an near-palpable snap when I hit the correct spot. Sam certainly appreciates it when I ride right.

The Ugly: I developed a mental vapor lock about diagonals. I was suddenly convinced that I was supposed to post in time with the inner shoulder. A faint echo suggested I might be wrong about that. I spent the first part of the first lap randomly bouncing from one diagonal to the other. This wasn’t me getting the wrong diagonal, which I have done. This was me deliberately posting incorrectly.

Rise and fall with the leg on the wall

Second Class
The best part – aside from winning, which never gets old – was that I was not completely consumed by procedure. I was able to clear a little space in my head to think about stylin’.

Of course, showing off can bite one in the butt. When they called my second class, I was lined up at the gate with no one else around. So I went zipping in alone, banners waving, with the intention of making a good first impression on the judge. Since saddleseat starts at the trot and stays there, this move committed me to trotting until the class filled. As lesson horse par excellent, Sam did most of the Beginner classes. Short rounds, fit horse, no problem. No danger of running out of horse. However, we came darn close to running out of rider.

Feeling Young

My birthday was last month. Didn’t mention it because I was trying to ignore it. Why is an zero-year no different than any other number, but so psychologically fraught?

I spent the day with friends…

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
… and found a goal for which I am underage, the Dressage Foundation’s Century Club, from the inspirationally cute story here. As best I can calculate, one has to be 70 and probably closer to 80 to join. Going on my life list.

Reader Survey: Legit or Not?

As you read this (Jan 12, 2013), I will be at my second saddleseat show. I am entered in Beginner Walk-Trot. According to the rules, I am at the correct level.

However.

At times I find this ridiculous. I’ve been riding for how many years? On Previous Horse, I was able to check my girth at the canter. Why am I taking ribbons away from true adult walk-trot beginners?

At other times, I feel distinctly qualified. I’ve been in a saddleseat saddle maybe a dozen times. I haven’t a clue where an American Saddlebred keeps the go, stop, turn buttons.

At yet other times, my previous riding gets in my way and I’m worse off than if I’d hadn’t ridden before. I go into panicked obedience at the announcer’s command instead of “finishing my pass” [Sorta]. When a crisis arises, I revert to hunt seat [Old Habits]. At which point, Stepping Stone Farm’s well-trained saddleseat mounts wonder why I’m hovering up around their ears. If I would please sit back on their kidneys where I belong, they could get on with their jobs. Even when I know intellectually what needs to be done, decades of muscle memory react to the horse without my consent.

Philosophically, where do you draw the line between legitimate contender and ringer?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Foto Friday: Amber Waves

Alternate titles:
The Waving Wheat
or
The Back 40 Needs Mowed

When Safety Doesn’t Come First

The promised update:

Both horses are fat and furry. Mathilda’s winter coat may be plumping her figure more than than she actually is, but overall doing well for an old lady. Using the universal horse birthday of Jan 1, she just turned 29.

The biggest problem we are having with Mathilda is keeping our promise to let her be a horse. After her last Houdini act [Out], she was going out at night by herself. Then it started raining and we lost our nerve. When the footing gets slippery, it’s all too easy to keep her penned up for just one more day. She is making it quite clear she does not appreciate the hovering nanny attitude.

Rodney is amenable about going wherever we need to put him. When we don’t want Mathilda hanging over the barriers [Debriefing, pictured] or trying to escape [Jailbreak] at night, into the stall he goes. When we want to let her out for a few minutes during the day, into the pen he goes. As long as he has a pile of hay or grain scraps to scavenge, he’s a happy pony.

My biggest problem with Rodney is the weather. Cold, dry air increases the odds of static electricity. Rodney does not appreciate being zapped while being groomed.

How do you balance what’s good for their minds with the desire to encase their bodies in bubble-wrap?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is It Safe To Crawl Out From Under My Rock Yet?

Funeral, dental woes, rainbow bridge. I’ve been an off-topic basket of cheer haven’t I?

Sunday: We had to take our seriously senior dog on the one-way trip to the vet. He’d been decrepit for a while but until last week he passed the bologna test. You know the one. Animal lying about marinating in ennui, uninterested in life. Then you wave a slice of bologna and they rise up like a feeding shark. He was finally uninterested in even that. So we – actually Hubby – had to make the decision. The right thing to do, but still wretched.

On a procedural note, this has been a dog phenomenon (2 of 3). Horses and cats have made their own arrangements (1 horse & I-don’t-want-to-count-number of cats (Not that we are tough on cats. My previous Siamese lived to be 16; Fluff, to 17. We just have fleets. Thus endeth the digression)).

The joy is that they live with us. The sorrow is that they do not live as long as us.

Monday: Tooth update. I have an active infection and it will be two months before my dentist can pull the tooth. Two months! Unless I swell up like a chipmunk again and end up in the emergency room again. This is no way to run a railroad.

Tuesday: Week 1 of new diet & exercise. No exercise. I’m citing antibiotics/infection and giving myself a bye. Four sodas. On the downside, more than I wanted. On the upside, a) a fraction of what I’m capable of, b) I went inside the convenience store to pick up the gas receipt without buying a soda, & c) this week gave me provocation.

Three bags of M&Ms and some Christmas cookies. Minor transgression of a minor goal. Two missed meals, both lunches. Two of the sodas were related to the missed meals, so lesson learned.

Overall, a plus if not a total victory.

Since he was kind enough to Like my original diet post [Not So New], I have installed this man as my imaginary personal trainer. When I contemplate eating against my diet, I think, ‘I can’t. Mr. 2Fit wouldn’t approve.’ (Yes, it’s all mind games. Do not question how the sausage is made.)

I’ve also written a quote from a commenter into my diet/exercise notebook. Of course I have a diet/exercise notebook:

Good luck, the more you stick to your plan, the better you’ll feel, and the better you feel, the more you will stick to your plan…… Cheri Isgreen

I can’t say that I’ve had enough change to feel improvement, but I can see how it could/will be true.

Tomorrow: Back to horses. The update I intended to write on Sunday.

Yesterday: To everyone who worried, thank you. The mood meter was in the foul zone when I wrote yesterday’s post. On the other hand, if I’m still writing, it’s bad but not horrendous. I haven’t had a truly horrendous since I’ve been blogging. I imagine I would simply drop off the face of the earth.

Years ago on a fire call, I did a faceplant over a firehose. A witness said he knew I wasn’t badly hurt because the first thing I did was look around to check if anyone saw. Similarly, if I am together enough to care about the daily post – short though it may be – I’m gonna be okay.

All in all, 2013 needs to pull its socks up.