i-Ride, a "Wide" Horse...

For way too long I was an equestrienne who hardly ever "equestriated":) When I did, it was infrequent, and always in conflict with commitments elsewhere and hard to find a perfect fit. When you're on the rent-a-horse circuit, you have to cobble together the best elements of an imperfect world. Different establishments have different programs, different teachers and different horses.
I've been fighting my way back. Riding is still often in conflict with other commitments but; moment of epiphany here; riding wins, more often than not. I've got two set riding lessons into my weekly schedule and last week, when I showed up early, I was asked to school one of the newer lesson horses to remind him of his manners.

This week, I rode three times as well, and I'm a better, happier person for it!

Mac, pictured above is a large (16h2) quarter-horse, and my most regular steed. He likes humans, has a big bouncy stride and a sensitive mouth; All pretty amazing for a riding school horse, and a tribute to the way the horses are treated at this establishment. 

Mac is a good task-master. If my hands are quiet and my legs are working hard enough, we get cadence and balance, duh! Mac has no withers; the raised area where shoulder and neck converge, so the saddle sits on top of his fully rounded physique and will slip to one side or another if the rider (me) doesn't center properly. It's been weeks since I've circled the arena on the side of my horse, like a limpet clinging to a rock. Progress is tangible and satisfying.

Pretty good, so far

Sunday morning driving to the stables, blue sky and country music on a practically naked ribbon of freeway. Smugly disdainful of those who choose to stay under their covers and miss this, arriving to a mounting block shining with a frosty sparkle, and horses turning flanks to sunlight, I'm undeniably alive.
A good hour in the saddle; striving, practicing, learning, achieving. No one's cold anymore. We four women appreciate the moment; lit from above, below and within. Ladies glow, horses sweat and steam rises from us all. A collective of satisfaction.
Back home to a well earned lunch, muscles tingling, still smiling introspectively and reliving moments of horse-generated pleasure that are hard won currency in my personal-spirit savings bank.
A nap, without guilt, an obligation to be fresh this evening for a party. I already tried on my outfit, to find a shoe solution. My toes no longer like all of my shoes and I have not yet done a serious triage to remove the ones I will never wear again. I find a green open toe slip on with a minimal heel, just enough that I won't drag my trouser legs around on the floor. I find a peachy nail polish that could be mistaken for seasonal gold and doesn't show my paint-outside-the-lines technique as badly as a darker red would. I like my top, a simple T-shirt style, black and sequined. I get it over my head and unhook the scales that have become entangled with one another, without tearing loose a strand.
Our host and hostess are charming people, although they'll be busy mingling with the guests, who will sparkle and shine throughout the beautifully decorated spaces of the house. Lovely Daughter and her husband have RSVP'd "Yes" to the party this year as well. I'm thrilled, I'll have a chance to chat with them and can escape early, leaving them to bring Husband home, if I start to turn back into a pumpkin before the end.

Rabbit, Dog, Horse

Abbey's future mama picked us up yesterday morning to go to dog training class together. I was planning on perfecting my role as spectator and cheering section but the trainer has no problem delegating and I was handed a leash and told to work with Lucky; a chocolate brown, compact version of a dachshund; all wagging tail and a true believer in humans being a direct source of good things.
Lucky knows a lot more than I do. The class was working on going from having their dogs "come" and "sit" in front of them to "finish", with the dogs at our sides , sitting in "heel" position. Using "watch me" commands, and leading with a treat-filled hand signal out to the side, circle and back in, is how this is taught. Lucky knew this one and that he would be rewarded at the end of it. Imagine a chocolate brown hermit crab shuffle, his eyes never leaving my face, as his wiggly butt swiveled from front and center to ankle ready position. A turn-key dog.
Abbey did well with Barbara, ending with our "meet and greet" manners exercise when dog owners stop to chat and dogs sit politely until told otherwise. We pretended to ask "can you hold my dog a moment while I go over there to get something?" and each took turns working two dogs, who were still expected to behave as if nothing was happening. Barbara spent some time with Abbey in one hand and another dog in the other. This was the perfect practice run for our after class activity which was to return home and continue acquainting Abbey with Barbara's dog, Bella.
Barbara and I took Bella and Abbey for a short walk then had lunch in her garden, with Abbey on leash and Bella sniffing around. Abbey was a good girl, except for one attempt at a snap, which was useful as an opportunity to correct her. I set up a doggie pen so that Abbey could stay there and acclimate, but not endanger Bella and I left them to it. Barbara was invited to return Abbey to me at the end of the day and to stay for dinner with us.
The Artistic One had volunteered to plan a menu and cook, which is always a promise of something tasty. Unfortunately he has no problem delegating either. I peeled and diced a million veggies, each of which was cooked separately to perfection, before combining for the final phase of seasoning. (Is butter a seasoning?) We had cantaloupe, rabbit in red wine and rabbit roasted in the oven. The veggies were divine. One guest asked for grated cheese and so we all tried adding that to the flavor bouquet as well.
There was a cheese plate and then tiramisu topped with fresh raspberries and blueberries that I had intoxicated with a sweet red wine and brown sugar.
Barbara had brought home a very tired Abbey. She had managed both dogs at her home very well. She had worked with Abbey, side by side with Bella, without the pen and managed to take a rest with one dog sleeping on each side of the bed. I've had a good vibe from Barbara since our very first meeting. What I learned yesterday in our dinner table conversation was that her career was as a psychiatric nurse. Great qualifications for staying calm and handling unexpected situations.
This morning was hard. We had gone to bed after midnight after copious amounts of food, wine and good company. If I had no dog to take for a walk and no riding lesson scheduled I think I might have lingered between the sheets. Not to be. Luckily, Abbey lets me have my coffee before we go out. I warmed up to the rhythm and didn't listen to my lazy suggestion to self that a foreshortened circuit would be O.K. just this once.
At the stables by 9'ish, I rode a large bay quarter horse called Mac. He's a beauty with a huge stride and a noble head. It was the start of a new session so I had imagined there would be more people than usual in the class, which would allow me to take it easy. My name was the only one on the board so I ended up in a private lesson. Warm up was a struggle but we ended up working through a low level dressage test quite respectably, for a horse and rider who had never met before today.
Lunch was a no-brainer. Hurray for left overs. The Artistic One worked on a new water color this morning and is now taking a nap. I am trying to catch up with all the blog posts that I haven't had time to read. I am on the cusp of attaining my one hundredth follower. There are so many kind and interesting people out in the blogosphere. Who would have thought that so many would show an interest in my search for pony-dom?
I don't write as much as I did in the beginning. For a while this blog was a bit of a lifeline; an exploration and affirmation of identity that I had lost sight of; A crutch, a retreat and a safety valve. Abbey has been a part of my journey back onto a path that once again feels as if it might lead somewhere worthwhile. I'm  getting my life back. I'll try not to lose sight of it ever again.

Hmm...

 At the risk of jinxing myself, there has been horse activity in my life for the past few weeks, on a regular basis. The first time back in the saddle was horribly depressing as my usual skill-set was no-where to be found. It's been 8 months since I rode last. Note to self: "I resolve to not accept life getting in the way like that ever again."
Sunday morning riding lessons with a mixture of flat work and jumping, on a cliche-palomino named Sunny, have revived some level of competence and a lot of smiles and contentment. To be continued...
Yesterday, a couple of fire-trucks pulled into the parking lot below the riding arenas and there was a training session to familiarize the crews with the basic anatomy and needs of a horse, should they ever have to rescue one. Horses can get stuck in ravines, or man made hazards such as swimming pools. I thought it was a very smart exercise for them to plan.
Abbey, my time-consuming foster dog, has made tremendous behavioral progress. She no longer barks and lunges, with all her might, at every dog she sees. She'll always be a "reactive" dog but she can be managed and we can go out in public; stop for a coffee; have a chat with other dog walkers and even join in and walk beside them.
We are in the process of training Abbey's potential new Mum. Barbara and I have walked together a couple of times. I like her. I believe she has "the right stuff" to make this work and she is willing to qualify to take on this special needs dog. Her long term goal is for Abbey to be a service dog, visiting young people at the juvenile detention facility. Abbey is one hundred percent reliable and respectful with humans. She will have a job to do and a life-story that will not be wasted.
It was really important that Barbara realize what she is getting into. She hasn't been exposed to Abbey's dark angel, as I have learned to preempt any slight tendency to fixate (what we call stink-eye) on another dog and so there is no escalation. I told Barbara to imagine her car loaded with nitroglycerine. If she is alert and observant she can avoid the bumps that will otherwise lead to an explosion.
Every walk is a learning opportunity. Every successful encounter increases the positive brainwashing that is turning Abbey, from an outcast, into a member of society. I've involved a trainer who is as much a behaviorist of people as of dogs. Barbara is taking private lessons and joining group classes. This is also a good way of transitioning Abbey. If this adoption goes all the way. She will have built a bond with Barbara and the changes will not be as abrupt. To be continued...

Horses Sweat, Men Perspire & Ladies Glow.

Ahh, the mantras of our childhood. I can safely say that I was "glowing" all over the place yesterday, as I tried to persuade my mount, Kassian, to move freely forward.
Kass is a handsome Lipizzaner/Thoroughbred cross, home bred by an owner who is a busy professional and soon-to-be divorced mother. She is looking to share exercise and some expenses of her horse. I was suggested to her by her trainer and went to try out our compatibility.
It's immediately obvious that Kass is a spoiled mama's boy. You can see from his posture and facial expression that he just expects to be served and he's not often disappointed.
At 14:2 hh, (58" or 1m47 at the top of his shoulder/withers) he's not a big horse, but he's well proportioned and has the presence of a much bigger animal. He oozes self-confidence and is the bossy, lead horse in the hierarchy of the paddock he shares; snaking his long, powerful neck and frowning at the others to keep them in their place.
I was told in advance that he's a "Brat" and to expect a buck or two if he didn't like what I was asking of him. With all the build-up, I was expecting to have an exciting ride.
Kass turned out to be really hard work. His walk, which is long, vigorous and ground-covering out on the trail, shortened and slowed the minute we entered the arena. His trot was "do I have to?" and his mind was on the view of the surrounding hills and any comings and goings of horses, cars or people. He wasn't spooking, just more interested in anything that wasn't work.
It turns out that Kassian's owner carries a long dressage whip and wears spurs for arena work. I traded my short crop for the proffered whip from her, but declined the spurs. I prefer to at least try to suffice with my leg power "au naturel" but the result was my being in a bigger sweat than the horse.
I need to ride Kass a few more times to see how we progress together. I was working on getting his attention on me and I did a lot of changes of pace and direction. Halt to trot & walk to trot, a few strides and then starting over. Working on quick (quicker) responses to leg aids and building some curiosity and enthusiasm for what might come next. We ended up with some reasonable canter figure-eights, down to a trot stride and change direction back into canter.
Kass has natural balance and good confirmation. His brain is under-engaged and he's used to taking the lazy way out. He is known to put a new rider to the test.
If he were for sale, I would not be interested in buying him, based on this one trial. I'm keeping an open mind about signing up to share/lease him. One ride does not a decision make. There may be a capitulation on his part, next time he sees me coming, or I may be the one to cry "Uncle". I'll let you know.

Balance

Yesterday was so special; a Monday off; a day when some are working and some are not. We call them Mickey-Mouse Holidays and usually do not partake. Last year I even had occasion to work on Independence Day thanks to a very needy, Maserati-owning client. California Whine Country
This Fourth of July we headed out for the beach. The forecast was for a warm fog-free coast. They lied! After half a day on the sandy shore; fully dressed and wrapped in towels to keep warm, we had lunch at Margarita-Ville, served by a "Fourth of July Barbie" with cowboy boots on, then sat in the nice, comfortable, and wind sheltered, car reading our beach novels for an hour or so, until the buzz from the Mexican coffee had worn off and it was safe and legal to drive.
The road back to blue skies made us smug as those who were late heading out would still be in traffic two hours later and be watching the primordial grace of flights of pelicans  looming and fading in the mist, rather than slathering on the sun-block.
This morning dawned with no painful sunburn, no tiredness from a late night of partying and a whole day to play with.
I rode at 8:30, the air still a pleasant temperature making my exertions possible. A new youngster at the stables, Macho is four years old; a large and well proportioned thoroughbred with great natural balance and head carriage. His trot felt more like a German horse, full of "schwung", if lacking consistent tempo. Nice natured too, I can't wait to ride him again.
It was still early when I got back home and I exchanged my boots and breeches for tennies and shorts and took myself for the walk I used to make when I had the foster dogs for motivation. I knew we were planning a lunch with Lovely Daughter and her man and I was trying to pre-empt the calories, or at least mitigate the guilt.
Basic salad, grilled steaks and mashed potatoes, followed by home made crumble/cobbler of blackberries, apples and rhubarb, and a nice Chateau Margaux, had us lounging around in a wonderful torpor for the rest of the afternoon.

Only a Dish

A beautiful morning, this morning, without extremes of heat or wind. Much appreciated as my riding lesson was cancelled on Friday due to the chilly and turbulent  wind storm. The covered arena was full of pony-club camp kids and the prevailing opinion was that alone, up in the jumping paddock, if falling branches didn't kill me, Jeddah just might.
Today was perfect. 10 am on a Sunday morning, a few minutes early so I grabbed my schooling book and went over the aids and figures for leg yielding. I have ridden Jeddah twice before and he has the sensitivity and responsiveness of a thoroughbred, ex-racehorse tempered by a few years of being ridden by somewhat inexperienced riders. The first few times I applied some serious leg I was met by tail swishing and kicking out. He also has an opinion about cantering only on the right lead, whether we are going clockwise or not and is in the habit of falling into the slowest walk imaginable, rather than maintaining forward movement, when we transition down from trot. He is not fooling me. I can feel his potential and achieve some tangible results during my half hour private sessions. After a dozen minutes of warm-up we got good rythmic trot gaits and improved downward transitions. Half halts, serpentines and repetitions of trot to walk, trot again, then back to walk and repeat. The leg evasions have greatly diminished and he is tracking-up with his rear end, so very nice in my hand.
The leg-yielding went well, now that he is no longer flipping out when I pull my leg back behind the girth. We had no more of the pokey nose, upside down neck and back feel that was in evidence initially. Progress is progress. Little steps forward are fine with me. I've asked to ride Jeddah again so that we can keep at it. Once or twice a week is not enough, of course, but it's better than nothing.
Back home with a sweaty smile on my face, Hubby was launched into the preparations of Saucisson de Lyon en Croute, a large pork sausage boiled with leeks, potatoes and carrots then fished out, wrapped in pastry and baked in the oven. The house was already filled to over-flowing with tasty aromas.
I wanted to share my pleasure and try to explain why I get a kick out of riding. I haven't completely given up on some kind of understanding dawning one day. (It's only been a few decades, I don't give up easily).
As Hubby was preparing the pastry it caught my eye that the electric stove-top ring, on which he had placed an empty pyrex dish, was getting redder and redder. I should stop here and explain that this issue has come up before. As far back as 1982, when I took my Artistic Frenchman on a tour of Britain, to meet his soon to be family-in-law, we had a similar incident at my Aunt Helen's house in Scotland. One cracked pyrex dish, a melted plastic spatula and eggs, milk and cheese gratin dripping everywhere sent poor Aunt Helen off to bed with a headache and a twitchy eye. We cleaned up, purchased new kitchen equipment and tried not to frighten any other family members during our stay.
It is hard for me to understand someone who repeats the same behaviors expecting different outcomes. A sign of madness, arrogance or optimism? I retrieved the dish from it's glowing perch and went to gently place it on the metal stove top. (I knew not to put it on the cold tile counter). It was too far gone already and began with a small cracking noise, like an ice cube going into an aperitif. It blew. Glass crystals spread far and wide all over counters, stove and kitchen floor. I left to go take my shower. Nothing to say on my part, that has not been said before. "I always hope they will improve the quality of their dishes" said Hubby. " Now I must find another one"
Lunch was great and very tasty, we were lucky that the glass bits didn't make it into our food. I swept up and we opened a bottle of wine to enjoy with our lunch. I did not go down the thorny path of recriminations, although I had lost my "Buzz" from my equine encounter rather more quickly than usual. C'est la vie!

Fingers crossed for a good night's sleep

Out of sorts with a lingering headache and a scratchy throat, cursing the impulse to invite a friend to lunch the other day, despite knowing her husband was sick with a bad cold. Men being needy creatures, she had stayed by his side, supplied soup and kleenex until she was going stir-crazy.
I don't know if it was a reaction to the pills I was taking all week to keep working through my symptoms but my back-ache turned into kidney (or something in that vicinity) pain and an above the navel stomach ache simultaneously; reminiscent of the early to mid stages of child birth. I lay awake Tuesday night self-diagnosing stones or tumors and begging for sleep.
Around 3:30 am sweaty and miserable (no fever just a warm night) I took a shower and then picked up the phone to see if the advice nurse thought I needed a visit to the Emergency Room. Carol sounded as though she was suffering from allergies herself and she said her voice was going after a long shift. She asked a lot of questions and had my records on her computer screen in front of her so could see that I'm usually healthy. Our decision was that I could take another pain/anti-inflammatory pill, with milk and/or food and tough it out until 6 am at which time I could call for an urgent clinic appointment and possibly get to see my own doctor.
I lay on the living room couch and experienced 90 minutes of miraculously delicious sleep. Waking without pain, although tired and off my game, I was able to get through the day. I kept waiting for the pain to return but, happily, all that was left were my dry tickly cough and the perpetual headache behind my eyes.
We had a social commitment, early last evening,  to meet a relatively new friend for drinks. I would have loved to cancel but she is working hard at being our friend. M. wanted to introduce us to someone who might be interested in Hubby's paintings and she is lonely and shaken by her husband's desertion and emptying of joint bank accounts. Thank goodness we went in separate cars! The unexpected part of the evening was that M. had invited a few other couples and had spent all day cooking up a feast and expected us to stay for dinner.
I kept my polite face on until 10 pm. and left Hubby to it. I drove home, fed the dog and fell into bed. Poor Hubby was trapped. He couldn't leave until someone else led the way. His sense of direction is abysmal and he had no clue where he was. I didn't hear him come in at all.
This morning was rough but daylight is undeniable, we had things to do. We dragged ourselves out of bed a few minutes before seven, which is late for us on a week day.
I spent some time watering the flowers in the garden and dragging the bubble-plastic pool cover out of the bushes so that we might accumulate some heat during the days and not lose it all at night. We haven't been able to use it at all during the time we had the foster dogs, in case they fell in and drowned. They had tried to walk on water a few times in the early days of their stay. They learned to recognize the wet stuff but were unclear why they couldn't walk on the plastic floating cover so I had retired it, "temporarily".
I had a long standing booking for a riding lesson at nine this morning. Despite feeling like Death-Warmed-Over, I decided it couldn't make me feel any worse and I was annoyed that I have missed a few weeks lately, due to last minute client dramas etc. I'd be paying regardless, if I cancelled this late, which was also a factor.
Driving up the hill past the reservoir to the barn surrounded by vineyards, I was glad I made the effort. I had a vigorous hour on an ex-racehorse named Jeddah; for once I didn't feel as though I might need to get off and push. I can't remember the last time I was on a Thoroughbred. It was great!
I always forget the rest of the world's woes when I ride. Can we bottle it and market the cure for the common cold?

A Satisfying Day

Today was a good day. It started off promising; when I went outside this morning, it was no longer hot enough to make a human sizzle. This human drove off to the stables which she has rediscovered recently and doesn't really know why she had gone anywhere else. (Pause to kick my own butt).

As this stables actually allows riders to prepare their own designated horses, I was able to experience the wonderful contentment of long boots that are suddenly comfortable for walking, as well as riding. I had been considering bringing a change of footwear to wear down to the paddock to bring in the horses. The last couple of times I've been thinking about the blisters my Harry Halls were forming on my heels more than anything more equestrian. So, Hurrah for comfy feet!

I also have a new helmet. I was told that my old velvet cap, with the rotted out silk lining, that leaves disgusting brown sprinkles in my hair, was no longer of an approved nature. I felt quite special and liked the more modern look and feel.

We have a teacher who pays attention and offers constructive criticism! I feel like repeating that in capitals. 

It has been my experience here in Northern California that Riding School Lessons are given by people (often young) who can ride but have no notion of passing information along. My intermittent lessons at several different barns have had me on a horse, being told to walk, trot, canter and sometimes go over poles. No discussion of the aids, no: "head up - heels down" to "take the fun out" of the entertainment. I don't ride for entertainment. I love the science and attempts at progress and unity for myself and the horse, and the reasons why things work or don't work! Riding in Europe comes with buckets of info. It probably does here for the horse-owners who can choose a trainer. I have had a hard time finding what I was looking for, until now. Suffice to say I was reminded, in detail, of my imperfections and I can't wait until I can go back again and get picked apart some more.