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.

We're pretty serious

EZcutiepie and I have moved to our winter quarters: the aforementioned Broken Wheel Ranch.  We've been there for about two weeks, and just in the nick of time.  Seriously, the snow/ice is out of contreezy.  I don't think we would be able to ride at all without access to an arena--it is the layers of ice and then snow that really would've done us in.  I probably just would've tacked him up, sat on his back, and been like, "I love you!  Let's hug."  Doesn't sound allll that bad.

Broken Wheel Ranch

All my complicated decision making worked out in the end--I just trittrotted little EZangelpie down to farm, as we were used to, and then had helpful Mr. Dad bring all our stuff and we were all set.  Check out the digs.

This is his stall, where he takes his meals like a fancy boy.  Please note his gorgeous O'Halloran cooler, borrowed from Cathleen, like all our nice stuff.

So the upshot of these winter quarters is the arena, not, in fact, that he gets to be spoiled with a stall if the weather gets nasty.

We built a baby jump to celebrate.

When I say "baby," I mean, "baby."  EZ was pretty sure he should just trot over it.  

Once that task is completed, he waits patiently at the door.

"Aren't you forgetting it is time to wrap things up now?"

"No, seriously.  I'm ready."

He did actually jump some things.  Which was good, considering we are going to a little schooling show in a few days where the hope is that things will be jumped.  Since I decided that we were shooting for the Beginner-Novice event at Kent on May 15, Ronan thought it would be good to get out a little bit, get a little practice with the whole "jumping" thing, as well as the whole, "leaving home" thing.  So, we'll see how that goes, but it would seem we're becoming quite professional.

I've been spending hours every day at this place now, which is much longer than I should, considering the fact that a boarding school never sleeps, and they are the ones who pay my bills (sorry about skipping classes to go to a show on Saturday!).  Part of what takes me so long every day is this business:

Wound cleaning.  EZdelicateflower is apparently finding his new pasture-mates to be rather rough.

 There they are, clearly up to no good.

"Who, us?  We're nothing but good.  Swear."

"Please get me out of here."

They actually don't seem very mean to him; he doesn't seem scared by them and I never see anyone giving him a hard time, but every day there's a new scratch or scrape.  Nothing too serious though, and it gives me a chance to brush up on my mad doctoring skillz.  We may look rather raggedy though, just sayin. 

Still not a horse

 

But still endlessly entertaining. 

Scamp is having a hard time with winter--a little bit of cabin fever.  I throw him out in the snow sometimes to counter the incessant meowing in my face when I would rather be sleeping.  All day and night long he's looking for any entertainment, whether it be from the window that I am trying to work at or the pen I am trying to use.

  

All of these things become of utmost importance when they are trying to be put into use.

 

Very subtle.

Annoying?  Who, me??

These things all also have to be tested for edibility.  Folder?  Reconstruction essay?  At least now we can be sure.

And I wonder why I never get any work done.

15º with a chance of Sleds

It was 15º when I got out of the car to ride today.  I think that's technically the coldest temperature I have ridden in so far, but weirdly it didn't feel as bad as other days have--it's all in the wind I think.

Now that we are approximately three snowstorms into the winter, it is increasingly difficult to get through the drifts in the fields to make it down the street to the indoor arena.  As a result I have ridden on the road the last few times, and maybe this is counter-intuitive, but because I'd rather not spend all that much time on the road, I have been trying to trit-trot as much as possible.  Maybe more things can go wrong at the trot, but it greatly decreases my time on the road, and the plows clear enough room so that I can be on the shoulder and EZ just loves mailboxes.

We made it off the road into the field up to the indoor, and the nice cushion of snow meant that we could have a little canter up the hill, which I have been dying to do since we've been making the trip.  This is our view from the top:

We had to make our own trail, but EZ didn't mind.  You can tell by the way his hair is sticking up like that.

On our way home the mailboxes were pretty well established as non-threatening, but we did not foresee the presence of screaming children on sleds, careening towards us at high speeds and did not take to them too EZily.  When the poor guy is nervous I can feel his little body quiver and his heartbeat against my legs.  He probably would've been sweating too, if it hadn't been 15º.  Anyway, we stood and watched the festivities until we were convinced nothing would eat us, and made it home in one piece, where we took another quick jaunt up the lake road hill.

 

 There is a lot of snow.

Good thing there are those trustworthy ears to lead the way!

This is the view though when a hound dog sneaks up behind us and we jump while holding the camera.  Sort of impressionist, no?


And, while we're talking about degrees here, driving home after dorm duty my car helpfully indicated that it is now -1º.  Winter does not kid around. 

Good thing the herd is all nice and bundled!

Special Guest Appearance

Kathleen came to visit Indian Pond farm!  After bounding out and hugging her I dragged her up to the menagerie, where she and Donovan fell immediately in love and I was totally ignored for the rest of her time here.  Just kidding!
Since our time together at the Bitterroot, where she left in October, Kathleen has sorely been missing pony time.  And I have been missing her, so this was a perfect opportunity to tempt her to my lair.  Or farm, whichever term you prefer. 

This is Kathleen's talking-to-animals face.  No one (thing?) has an immunity to it.

I had cleared going to the indoor, but it was real cold and mom was freaked out about snowplows on the road and killer drifts and whatnot, so we just went on a little jaunt down to the lake.

So weird/natural to be riding.  So weird/natural to be chilling together outside of Dubois, Wyoming.

Aren't they both the cutest things you've ever seen?  This is in fact all we could say the entire time all this was taking place.  "This is the cutest thing ever."  And it really was.  Big D was a little bit spicy after going a few months without an outing, but Wrangler Kathleen was delighted with him.  Or so she said--I was too busy paying attention to what an angel EZhardcoldcash was to really pay to much attention to them.

Because EZ and I are supercute too.  Let's all give mad props to the O'Halloran designed quarter sheets!  We are so fancy.  And cozy.

Bitterroot baby Arabians have trained Kathleen to beware of every potentially scary/hazardous thing, which has weirdly in turn created a person who spooks like an Arabian would, but D and EZ eventually convinced her that the occasional flapping quarter sheet wouldn't kill anyone.

We are totally roaming our winter wonderland.

Fun with blurriness really starts to set in here.  So picturesque, yet unfocused...

Then clear, but apparently catching a moment that's not, actually, blissful?  

Liz tried to help us out once we got home, and took like a million pictures until her fingers froze, but again, there's a mixture of blurriness or bunk faces.

All in all though, it was a smashing success, and both Donovan and I will miss Kathleen until she visits again!  (Maybe when it's warm though?)

Snow Ponies

I went to bed last night wondering what would await me this morning.  The horses were being idiots, and I totally blame Donovan.  After the cow extravanganza when I went to check them they were all the way out in Timbuktu, in the driving wind and snow.  I caught Donovan and he led all of them down to the barns, where I fixed his blanket and generally reminded them all that we did have barns now, that we worked very hard to obtain for them, so they should use them and love them and stay warm.  Then I let Donovan go and he immediately galloped back to Timbuktu, with everyone following on his heels, including Donker, although you could tell he resented it.  Ridiculous!  So I trudged back, caught D again, and closed him in the stall, with the goats who had smartly scampered in.  The others, loyal to the end, milled around outside, without going to the other barn even when I fed them treats, but at least they were out of the wind.  A few hours later I let D out, and away they went again.  Oh well, I tried.

Then this morning we woke up to this:

Yeah, snow!  It was mostly done coming down, but the wind was still blowing.

Blowing so strongly, in fact, that it had created convenient drifts right up against the barns.

Can you see the poor, aggrieved goatie faces?

Donker had obviously had enough of the ridiculous horse behavior and had joined the goats, although they were none so happy where they were either.

I shoveled them out, checked on Myma (very unimpressed), and started on the other barn.

Please take note of how the ground in front of the barn is blown completely bare--it's only actually in the barn that there is snow.  Obvious design flaw.

Since the goats and donkey had been freed, they went to get the others where ever they had spent the night, and they appeared from the whiteout, with Big D leading the way (obvies).

I don't know where D had decided it would be best to weather the snow, and I see his point about the barns, but still, evidently they had their own drifts to deal with.

Look at their poor snow faces!  It's most obvious on EZ, given his lustrous black coat (isn't he beautiful?), but they all were covered in snow and ice.  Poor things.

 

This is a snowy Donovan nostril, in case there was confusion.

I fed everybody and brushed everybody and removed their iceballs, then put on some cozy little neck covers since it's still windy and obviously they're not so into the barns.  I wanted the warmest one for Dutchie, because he is most elderly, but it wasn't the one that matched his coat, so they are all mismatching and clashing, but I figured they wouldn't really mind so much since you can't see for all the snow anyway.

Dad scraped out most of the drifts with the tractor and I shoveled out most of the rest of the snow, and all creatures were actually seen to be using the barns, so there's that.

I gave Myma some more hay and distracted her with half a loaf of stale bread and achieved this:

Which may or may not be the cutest thing ever (after Donker) (sorry Myma).  She didn't love it though, and when I went back to check a few hours later she had wriggled out of it. 

In conclusion, snowy days leave no one comfortable.  They're all ok though, and that's what matters most, and hopefully tomorrow we'll have less gale-force breezes.