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?

Running On Empty

BEEP. BEEP. That’s the fill alarm on my idea tank. Halfway through the year (Thursday was post #183 [Zoo]) and over two months into mare care, I’m floundering. I’ve squeezed the subject of grazing down to dessicated stalks. In response to my pleas, a blogger friend suggested a horse hunt update. Sure thing. I’m all over that:

Booted in the butt by her email, I attempted to rally, really I did.

Step one: The Chronicle of the Horse Giveaways forum. Ignoring the high cost of free horses, most of them live in the Mid-Atlantic. I don’t.

Step two: Craigslist farm+garden. More multi-horsepower tractors than single-horsepower horses.

Step three: Equine Now. The horses in my area tend toward barrel & gaited.

OTOH, whenever I find myself wallowing in excuses, I think of Amy Tryon. In one interview or another [Tribute], we talked about living outside the equestrian mainstream. Most of the shows in her area were hours away. Her solution? Host a show at her barn. Translation: stop whining, suck it up, & do something about it.

Got any suggestions for a) blog posts or b) how to overcome the horse-search lethargy?

Two Forward, One Back.

This Ferdinand moment is Mathilda grazing on her own in a little temporary pen we roped off in the corner of the pasture. One step closer to letting her out on her own, which is one step closer to resuming what used to pass for my life. We dug up a hank of old uncharged, braided, electric mesh. Years ago, we would turn Mathilda & Previous Horse out on the front lawn to mow the new grass. This lasted until PH had a Thoroughbred moment, began to channel voices, and trotted right through the fence and down the driveway. So we knew that a) she was used to it & b) in the event of a crisis, the rope would break. This lovely state of affairs lasted ~25 minutes until she used the rope to scratch her butt, threatening to take down the whole works. From this, we divined that yesterday’s application of medicated cream had dried & was itchy, Hubby hosed her off. I stood on roll prevention patrol until she was dry. Sigh.

Any progress to report on your end?

Being Happy

Grazing Supervisor lends a paw.

Yeah! Mathilda stayed out grazing for almost an hour & a half. Previously, 45 minutes was her limit before the backend began to drift. I would have waited longer but it was closing in on breakfast. Snaps to Ernest Cline for making Level Three of Ready Player One almost as relentless as the southern sun.

Summer has whacked us over the head with a vengeance. Full of resolve, I went to pay a little overdue attention to Rodney. Only to find that he was too sweaty to brush at 6 pm in the evening. Instead, he got a shower and a pat. He’s an amazingly happy horse. Provided the sky is not currently falling, he gives off the vibe of a person looking for reasons to be pleased. Needless to say, he enjoyed his bath.

How has summer hit your household?