Tango: Two

I’ll never learn. I don’t know if it’s me creating the actuality from the thought, or just being aware of the logic of the allocation of the horses, but I woke up on Wednesday and knew.

Three days in row as I’m off on holiday- today in fact, right this minute just about, blogging from Dublin Airport again, which hasn’t nearly the number of internet kiosks that it ought- so up to the yard on Wednesday night, hoping that I wouldn’t have to abase myself to get a lift down the mountain, and knowing. Just knowing…

Spirits Officially Lifted

I must admit I was dragging my feet to the yard today.

Just general malaise, a poor awakening, a rush out the door, a day spent indoors, changeable weather, and a feeling that none of my friends are up there, anymore.

I mooched around Delilah’s box, her bum firmly presented to the world at large. I gave her offside hind a good scratch, she was billowing with scurf, and I felt somewhat better being partially covered with it. Not everybody can end a day covered in dusty horse hair, so that felt like something.

I sloped around the place, trying to give Tango some affection, which he reacts to extremely. There’s a lesson for us all: don’t go knocking around people who are nice to you. Can’t give the guy a decent pat, he’s all over ya.

Then Nikki called to me across the barn, asking if I’d tack up Mercury. Ah. There it is.

An Apology

To everyone who googles Short Back and Sides and ends up here. Quite a few do.

Beckz did an hilarious post on all the search terms that lead to her site. I get a fair few dodgy ones, as I am something of a potty mouth — or was, as I was appalled by the things that were coming through. There are some nasty ass [whoops] links out there, and I am making the attempt to secure those gateways.

Having said that, I did a quick search of the phrase on The Urban Dictionary and it yielded nothing, so the haircut isn’t code for something contrary to its meaning, like… well… nope, don’t want any traffic due to mentioning what would appear, to many, to be the act of inserting a repository of oolong into its proper receptacle.

But hey, thanks for visiting, and should you have any horsey acquaintances, pass along the link!

Station Break

WE INTERRUPT OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMME… to let you know that my first novel, Drama Queen, is now available for preorder!

It’s not available yet in the States, but is in Canada, for some reason. Also in France. And Japan. I don’t exist in China — yet.

Crush

Fiona has a new horse, called Nadal, and Nadal has his first stalker, called me.

He is gorgeous: four years old, full of life, astonishingly affectionate, light bay, big deep bright eyes.

Sigh. He’s too much for me, clearly, and he’s been getting up to all sorts of mischief, wrecking his box, grinding his teeth, banging his salt lick against the wall for entertainment. He’s such a great addition to the yard, everybody loves, him not just me, but I do make a point of saying hello, er, every time I’m up there.

What a dote. Love him.

I Have Set My Life Upon a Cast…

AND I WILL STAND THE HAZARD OF THE DIE When I made up all those lessons I’d missed in late autumn of 2006, it became quite plain that I was going to have to continue to ride twice a week.

Fairly sharpish, it got into my head that three times a week was the way forward. I kept saying it, aloud, over and over, to anyone who would listen – and to anyone who couldn’t care less.

Before my last full time job packed up, I imagined a world in which I was once more a freelancer, with writing as my predominant source of income, a gig that would allow me to have contact with humans occasionally, and Thursdays free for a private lesson.

And so it came to pass. I didn’t really mean for the dude I was working for to go out of business, but opportunity knocked. I threw open the door and made it a nice cup of tea.

Now, it seems, all I’m talking about is getting a horse.

Taking Stock

1. It takes me two lessons to get back to scratch after a ride out. My private lesson was not great on Thursday, I had Delilah, and I’m not used to her anymore. Bouncy as jeep over rough road, my right leg was flapping all over the place, and the jumping was dire. I didn’t get all in my head about it, so that’s good.

2. Elbows are waving in the wind as well, must remember to give a thought to them.

3. Jumping: ack! Shoulders hunched, hands pulling back, what happened? I think it must be some fear I picked up on Rebel. Today in the lesson, I had Ruby, and when Barbara said we were going to jump with the reins in one hand, I was like, uh uh. But, as ever, once it began, it had to be done. The jump was about a foot high, and it was actually quite awesome to do, so that’s something. Even in the canter. !

4. Uh, use the body and the legs to guide the horse. This was something I was apparently not doing when holding the reins in a single hand. Not getting the requisite aids from me, Ruby kept going large. Learned a lot today. Especially about the hunching shoulders. I may go back to grabbing mane until I get them relaxed again.

5. Riding Delilah, I think I pulled a little tendon or something behind my knee. I’ve gotten more passive prangs off of her than anybody else. And I have sore bone in my foot, don’t ask me how one wrenches a bone in one’s foot, but there you go. Is it my narcissistic metatarsal? Could be.

6. I think I better order a couple more long sticks. I’ve already broken one, I think Rebel stepped on it and then I jammed it getting on a bus. Snapperoo. My new gloves arrived in three days, plus I got a 50% off thingie on another pair, so I’ll get another pair of those, too. I can’t recommend them more highly: MacWet are available world wide, [er, I think] and they are light, well-fitting, and sturdy. I wore them out over the course of seven months, not bad as five of them have been spent riding three times a week.

Additionally, I’ve broken out the spare pair of nice, black, spankin’ new jods I had bought in November ahead of my trip to Spain, so will need to get another pair of those, too. The jods are wearing out less as I am washing them less, which is gross, but economical.

7. Put elastics in every jacket I might or might not bring with me. I managed to dig one out of my kit bag, as I had forgotten to slip a couple round my wrist, and my hair was mingeing afterwards. Two plaits suit me better than one. Barbara let us take a fence as ride, on and on and on, and it was amazingly fantastic, but I was drippin’ by the end of it.

8. Continue to talk about my issues with different horses. It’s good to share, and I learn so much, mostly that not everybody likes every single horse, and that not everybody can ride every single horse, and that other people feel like eejits after riding a horse they don’t like/don’t ride well. This is good for my morale.

9. My queendom for a horse…

Cure for the Common Cold?

Got a return visit from a virus or whatever it was that I had felt impinging on my wellbeing the week of the shoot. Didn’t want it then, and didn’t want it now. I decided to take the best cure I know — other than hot whiskey — and head out to my lesson anyway. Nothing like a good sweat to get rid of the megrims. Or whatever it was.

There’s nothing worse than standing around in sunshine and feeling poorly. We were going on another ride out as well, and I kept my jacket on, as it seemed like I’d need the extra layer against the breeze, a lovely cool breeze that I would, of course, enjoy under fitter circumstances.

Delilah was feeling like going, and I wasn’t too sure about that. Happily, we went down to the lower arena and cantered around for a bit, all of us at once, and shook out some of the flutters — both hers and mine.

There’s nothing like being on the back of a horse to remove the focus from a dozy head. We trotted down the lanes, and Delilah and I were in accord, unlike last week when it felt like everything was wrong. I was still nervous, last week, nervous about the Big Hill.

I was very straightforwardly asked if I’d go up it this time.

I decided it was time. It was time to shake off that mad dash on Rebel [whom I missed terribly, tonight] and go for it. Jack was not in the ride, so Delilah had no one to compete with… yet I was still making the decision even as we got to the gate.

Things got a bit hairy as we waited for Ruby to go: Delilah started jigging to the left, all the way left, banging into Nikki and the horse she was holding, I was trying to hold Delilah without giving her something to fight against, which was a tricky position to be in, but Ruby took to the field and off we went —

And it wasn’t as steep as I thought it was. Delilah didn’t go as fast as I thought she might. I kept her head up and my heels down, and we galloped away, and we made it to the top.

So that’s over. That’s officially out of my head. It’s done. I can do it again. I am delighted with myself.

Don’t think my bug is gone, though. I ‘ve got a crashing headache, and my vision was a little bit sparkly around the edges, like I imagine one gets before one faints, a little lightheaded despite the tightness in my skull. Off to the scratcher and another dose of Uniflu and sleep sleep sleep.

And before I dream, I’ll relive that gallop up the Big Hill and enjoy the feeling of confidence re-won.

It’s a Wrap

So, the production team asked if I would be willing to have two lessons in a row on the day of the shoot.

And if I’d take Rinaldo for the second one.

That’ll teach me to blog in good time…

Might As Well

GO AHEAD AND The summer jumping league starts this Friday.

Given my new challenges with my jumping position, I wonder if I should…