A Retrospective

Mom found a photo album I had compiled during high school tucked away in one of her drawers.  Why she is hoarding my photo collections is a separate issue (but maybe not a difficult one--apron strings, anyone?) (love you, mom!). 

Anyway, all of the pictures I had taken the time to lovingly place in the album were of me and my various horses.  There were a bunch of me with my parents too, but they were sort of just tucked in haphazardly--priorities, you know (love you, parents!)?  Anyway, I convinced mom to scan some of them for me, because she's the bombdiggity.


















So here we are--at the beginning, Liz and I with our horses!  She is riding Rodeo Rosie, and I am on Sheena, the only other horse I can legitimately have called my own before Mr EZ.  We have ridden up to our grandparents' cabin by the lake, where probably Grammie is standing on the porch and maybe having a slight issue with camera aim.  There are many observations to be made:

1) Rosie's apaloosa markings were and continue to be way badass (no pun intended about the ass part).
2) We are wearing "Heels Down!" riding sneakers.  So cool.  And shorts, which I recall being uncomfortable in the long run.
2) My helmet, set at a jaunty angle, is missing its visor, I think because I used it also as a biking helmet.
3) Look how blond I was.
4) Sheena's noseband looks a tad high, no?

There are more, but I'll let you make them.

This is with Skeeter, the Arabian schoolmaster who taught me dressage.  Obviously a very good teacher--check out that ribbon!  That cute little bay there to the left was named Matilda and it was actually while riding her that I learned how to steer and my instructor thought maybe there was hope after all at becoming good at the whole riding thing and upgraded me to Skeeter.  His real name was MC Jabaskan, very fancy, from the fancy Bask Arabian line.  He also had a mad intense sway back--you can see some of his hardcore padding.  But he was an incredible horse and my long time partner.  I don't know what's up with my look here--apparently trying out some modeling glares.  Or the sun was in my face.  Blinding!

Here I continue my pretty awesome modeling skills while getting Skeeter ready for the show.  I was never all that good at the button braids.  I think I remember being very hot and stressed at this exact moment.  Mom is being very helpful, whispering soothing sweet nothings to both of us, by the looks of it.  See, I wasn't kidding about that swayback.  Once I was riding in a clinic with a bunch of other kids on their dinky horses and we were doing leg-yielding, and the clinician said something about having to take confirmation into account and basically she didn't think Skeeter would be able to do them very well, and I was like, Oh yeah?  and then we schooled them.  He was the best. 

After the braiding was done, here I am in my show clothes, apparently skeptical at whatever dad is saying.  Pretty sure that was a velcro stock tie.  And that's definitely a velvet cover for my plastic helmet.  And also definitely our maroon Volvo station wagon in the background.  (so many Vs!)

Another few years later and here I am on Patrick  (total Nev look alike!).  This is at the Northeast Junior and Young Riders' Dressage Championships, I think my third year going.  I was showing Patrick at Training Level and Skeeter at First.  I loved this dude.  I was awestruck by how huge and cool he was and got my instructor to let me ride him, and she said something like, "You did better than I thought you would with him," which was super encouraging.  Please observe that I have moved on to French braiding the mane, even though it is unfortunately a bit wavy.  Also observe Liz's toned leg muscle in the background.

He definitely wasn't the easiest to ride, but I loved that I felt like I made a statement on him.  We would not be ignored!  We had a shoulder issue though.  A few months after this show while struggling to control the bulge in a lesson I finally just halted him and threw my arms up in exasperation and said, I give up!  I can not do this anymore!  And my instructor patiently said, Well ok.  How about we finish the lesson though?

It was not during this test, but during a prix caprilli one in a similar arena that Patrick just exited the arena at the corner.  Seriously, the shoulder bulge just bulged right over the fence.  I hoped no one noticed, but yeah, we were disqualified from that one.

In the Winner's Circle!  Whatwhat!  Look at how much less loot I get at second place than the first place rider did.  Lame!  At least I still got a medal.  I think this is the same year that I rode both Skeeter and Patrick, and got second in both my categories (although maybe my helmet is different, so maybe it was a different year?  My memory is like swiss cheese).  Possibly the zenith of my riding career.

...although, later on I did go to the Arabian Championships and there were some pictures of those that I can post once they are scanned (no pressure, mom.  I swear)...

All in all though, you gotta admit, pretty cute, right?  And this is how I spent my summers.  Riding these little buggers, working at Cricket Hill Farm in order to do so, and trying my damndest to rack up as many of those ribbons as possible.  Except for the ribbon part, some things never change.