Showing in the Sun

On a hot summer day, let’s take it as read that activities requiring long pants are inherently ridiculous. The only sensible way to ride in the heat is to put on a pair of shorts, hop on bareback, and head to the creek. That said, I went by what I hope to be my new lesson barn [Random], Stepping Stone Farm, to check out their end-of-camp show last weekend.

How to Run a Show in the Sun

My first blue, beginner walk/trot at a camp show.

Recognize the evil necessity of camp. A deluxe training barn might charge enough to forgo the rugrat brigade. However, most farms of any discipline need the clients, whether it is summer-only or part of a program. I knew a barn in another state that brought kids in as up-downers and took them through to the Pony Finals. Two other barns in my area – one hunter, one hunter/jumper – had shows the same day.

Schedule low-key classes. Walk. Walk/Trot. Leadline Walk. Leadline Walk/Trot. You get the idea.

Motivate the judge. The classes flew. I don’t think the walk/trot/canter classes made it four times around a medium-sized ring. The announcer had trouble keeping up with the speed of the ring steward’s signals. I’ve ridden in hunter flat classes that I wished moved so fast.

Have the right horses. The Saddebreds shed heat like the tall, thin endomorphs they are. I’ve seen hunter/jumper shows in less heat where horses and riders looked more miserable. Rodney looks worse standing out in the field all by his big, fat self.

Yes, there are nits I could pick – starting with slapping helmets on all of the adults – but I hope to ride there. I’d rather not get thrown out before I even start. Everyone was friendly and the horses looked healthy & happy. That goes a long way.

Did you camp?

Riding Toward Random

I am I am one step closer to sitting on a horse. I am going to take Saddleseat lessons. I blame this blog.

In a previous post [Running on Empty], I asked for suggestions to awaken my motivation. A kindly commenter suggested, “Take a lesson at a random barn…..”. Had she said, “Take lessons”, my response would have been, ‘Yeah, yeah, tried that.’ English barns cost too much to make a habit of. The one nice-looking Western barn I found never responded [Checklist]. There are other barns, but I want an actual program with reliable lesson horses. Not someone with a handful of horses pimping out their riding horse for money.

However, she said, “Take a lesson at a random barn…..”. A few days earlier, we’d had dinner with friends whose granddaughter is at summer camp at Stepping Stone Farm (also Facebook), a local saddleseat barn. The two ideas fused together and became a plan. I’d go check out the gdaughter’s barn and maybe sign up for lessons. I can’t get more random than a discipline without a jump nor a speed class in sight.

Of course, I have the usual Hunter/Jumper & Eventing prejudices about the Saddleseat industry. But, I’ve learned to take my own prejudices with a grain of salt. During my Kentucky pilgrimages [Pereginatio], I stayed with a family, one branch of which rides Saddleseat. At their farm, I saw a bit that looked as if it was made out of bicycle chain. I was horrified. Unfortunately, Rolex doesn’t have an unblemished record for bringing all entries home safely. No horses were dropping dead at Saddleseat shows. They were probably as appalled at Eventing as I was at their bit.

At Stepping Stone, the owner/head trainer asked about my experience. I said I had ridden but it had been a while. Which is all too despairingly true. I was surprised that she didn’t ask more. However, given the smoke horse folks can blow, how would she know what to believe? Having run afoul due to perky eagerness in my youth, I tend to undersell in horse situations. She couldn’t know that. Besides, she’ll find out whatever needs first time I get on a horse. The barn always starts with simple one-on-one walk/trot classes until a new rider is settled. I have no objection. Even if Rodney & I were thundering around, I know essentially zip about saddleseat.

Any advice from Saddleseat riders out there?
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You know it’s hot when the cats start to melt.

Shopping, Sorta

Pat me on the back. I went to see a horse. Okay, there was a snowball’s chance in summer that anything would come of it, but I entertained the possibility. A friend told me that the local animal shelter had a horse for adoption. I went because a) Mark Todd says you should go look at every horse. There is that snowball’s chance that it might be Charisma standing out in that dog pen & b) more realistically, I could post a few shots on Facebook & with local horse groups. By the time I arrived the next day, she had already been adopted. Score one for the good guys.

She was as homely as you could expect a shelter horse to be. Each individual section had its merits, on six different horses. She had a head so roman and so ugly that it was coming back around to cute, what the French call “jolie laide“. She looked up from the grass long enough to give me look that said, “Yeah, I know you’re there. I just don’t chose to care.” Given a home that wants attitude over athleticism, she’ll be a star.

As I was unsure about the privacy issues of posting a picture of an adopted horse – especially given the kind things I had to say about her, Instead, I give you their fire hydrant. Someone there has a sense of humor.

Back on the homefront: just when I thought activity around here had come to a screeching halt, we hit triple-digit heat & everything slows down even further. Rodney is too sweaty to groom. It’s too hot to take Mathilda out for a graze, other than first thing am & last thing pm. While I know it is for therapy, I cannot bring myself to put heating pads on their backs in this weather.

A chance to catch up on work, you say? Clean the house? Not so. Our ancient HVAC system has finally died, requiring not only a new AC but all new duct work. Project has been scheduled but will take several days. So, cool air is two weeks at best. It’s hard to rev up the energy to do more than press buttons to summon electronic entertainment. With the shaded, airy barn & heavy-duty fans, the horses have it better off than we do. Not unusual chez nous.

Do you follow the Phil & Paul show?

Cinder-blogging-ella

ime for my end-of-the-month commentary on blogging. Early in June, I switched my posts to load automatically just after midnight.

Upsides
Audiences: I catch the international folks and the early risers when they are up & about.

Standardization: The blog comes out the same time every day. Before, I might post early with a chron job or late if I ran out of day. At an Alabama Phoenix Festival panel, Devil’s Panties artist Jennie Breeden explained that she worked this way. Her posting is so reliable that when she was late, a family member called to find out if she was okay. This struck me as a desirable level of professionalism.

Downsides
Less immediacy: When Mathilda wedged herself in the stall like Winnie-the-Pooh, the story suffered a time lag. She hurt herself on Saturday. I wrote about it on Sunday. The details saw the light of day on Monday. If I ever return to day-by-day training notes, this system will make the blog more like a prime time recap than a live broadcast.

Harder follow-through: Since the post is automatic, I forget to post on the follow-by-Facebook page, which is not automatic.

Othersides
Originally scheduled: a long blather on how my scheduling changed, why it changed, and what that means to the ultimate fate of life, the universe and everything.
Instead: another blogger’s more evocative blather:

Bippity, Boppity, Horsepoop
I was brought up by a militant feminist single mother in the height of the MS magazine era. Stories for Free Children ring bells with anyone? As a result, I never bought into the Prince-Charming-coming-to-save-me fantasy. (I ended up with one, but the point is, I wasn’t looking.) However, I have been guilty of waiting for my blog to be Charming. In her post, Bippity Boppity Bullshit: Lessons from Cinderella, Midnight & Moxie, Marissa Bracke says, “I believed that if I worked really hard and studied really hard and figured out the ‘right’ things to do, there would come a day when–Bippity Boppity Boo!–my business would be flourishing, the money would be flowing, and I’d be breezing my way through a nonstop cycle of blazing productivity followed by serene and stressless rest or recreation.” Yup, that was me. Waiting for blog nirvana. She reminds us that life doesn’t happen that way. Midnights come & go. “What you lack in glass slipper you make up for in frock, and that even if your horseman is a mouse, your hair never looked better.” So, picture me grabbing my pumpkin and stomping toward that darn ball. Blog on.

Did you notice a change in the posts? Did it make a difference?

List of previous end-of-the-month blogging posts.
Rodney’s Alphabet, to date.

8 Hooves, No Waiting

A blacksmith visit goes fast when you only need trims. Rodney stood like an old soldier. He’s always good – all my horses behave on the ground – but he’s usually intrigued by being outside the pasture. This time around, with this heat index, he was in touch with his inner school horse. Mathilda succeeded in holding up all four feet but found it tiring. The blacksmith had to move fast on the right hind, but she’d worn off most of the necessary by keeping her weight on that foot. She also had trouble bending the hock on the left leg. A remnant of one of her sillier maneuvers during rehab. Both blacksmith and blacksmith’s assistant thought Mathilda had gained weight and handled her balance better than last time. So it’s not all wishful thinking on our part. Snaps to my blacksmith for working so patiently with such a wobbly critter.

After they left, I took a nap. Why is it so exhausting to watch other people work?