Virtual Brush Box

BrickFair: day 1 – LEGO v. Horses

LEGO & Horses are so different
LEGO is hard-edged, plastic, and clean. Horses are furry, animate, and dusty. Although if you ever handle LEGO that has been used in a freeplay area, you will feel an overwhelming need to soak your hands in bleach.

LEGO stays were you put it. Horses only do so if they feel like it. Unless, of course, the cats get into the bricks.

LEGO skills are progressive. No need to rebuild easy sets or simple MOCs. Even upper-level riders need to warm up, practice 20-meter circles, and work on a decent halt.

LEGO & Horses aren’t so different
Both are seated. I had an attack that we think was shingles on my posterior. Sitting anywhere on anything was problematic. Also biking. Amazing how many of my activities involved my tailbone.

Neither are on the computer. Work life, social life, entertainment. Boy, do I get tired of staring at a screen.

Both attract avid Fans who will happily chat on the chosen subject for hours.

How do your hobbies compare/contrast?

Glad Post

What is your reason for being happy? I have three: one equine, two off-topic.

1) I won my class last weekend [Report]. More importantly, I worked hard, rode well, and feel that it was a righteous win. Even more importantly, I had a moments before and during my classes, mostly the second one, where I was struck with the thought, Hey, I’m actually good at this. Not saddleseat in particular, but horse maneuvering in general. It’s a long time since I’ve thought that about my riding. Finally, in combination with all of the above, I flat-out enjoyed myself, when I wasn’t stressing or puffing. (Last time I mention the show. I promise to move on.)

2) Starting tomorrow (1/17/13) I will be massively geeking out at a four-day LEGO convention. Further, it’s being held held where I live. No travel. No hotel. No restaurant meals unless I’m out with friends. Just miles of bricks, hordes of brick-building ideas, and crowds of like-minded brick enthusiasts. (Photo caption: the local store gives our club one window to display our creations. Construction & photo of January’s window by MCLUG President Stefan Formentano.)

3) A friend has promised to make something amazing for me. It’s one of those hyper-specialized items at the sight of which 90% of the world will wonder WTF and those in the know will squeeee with delight. It will be weeks before she can start and months before she is finished. But that gives me time to wallow in the anticipation. Yes, I’m being deliberately vague, in case the universe intervenes.

Share with us your good news, equine or otherwise. The world needs as much as it can get.

Credit where credit is due. I am slowly reading my way thru the Whatever archives. (Yes, I am addicted [Interjection]. The phrasing of the new About page is not by accident.) On August 14, 2006, John Scalzi links to a post by Justine Larbalestier, No Control, wherein she mentions (in the first P.S.) her previous post, Good News Only, requesting uplifting news from other writers – hence my choice of subject – and threatens to change her blog to The Gladblog – hence my title.

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…

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… 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?
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