Here's a (not-so) brief run down of the prior year.  The little events in each month won't be in chronological order because, really, who has the time?  (You have my permission and blessing to skip this, because it is long as shit.  Sorry.)

January

February

 March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

December

Dirty boy.

Friday night was just a fifteen minute bareback ride.  We worked on forward, while ignoring the pratter of BO.  I don't know why I hate it so much, but I absolutely despise it when she talks about or to Archie.  For example:  talking about how he should be all sorts of relaxed because he was a demon when she rode Skinny Guy, or telling him to have a good night and that she'll see him for breakfast in the morning.  This sort of possessive nature of mine really makes me think that I'll only be content when I have a barn of my own.

Several years ago, the barn at Augusta had a horse show.  I think I had to work, something like that.  My bestie called me to tell me that Archie's former owner, who I have never met, had tried to take him out of his stall for photo ops, but she went apeshit on my behalf.  So they just opened the stall door and stood next to him.

Saturday morning was disgusting.  It'd been cold and rainy all night and the forecast called for a two hour window of sunlight.  Rather than ride first thing, the hubs and I ran our few errands.  Here's a shocker:  no cupcakes were consumed.  I'm burnt out.  I'm getting fatter every day.  No more cupcakes for the time being.  :(

I was late for that proposed two hour window, but the sun was still shining.  I got lucky.  The wind was still sort of bad, but boogerface was remarkably good.  In the few occasions that I get to ride now, I've got traditions.  Saturdays, we work on our downward transitions.  I'm to the point now where we trot fifteen beats and then walk for a second and repeat.  I do that for three circuits of the pasture.  Then we trot straight for three circuits.  And then canter three shorter laps.  For everything except the canter, we go over my little trot pole.  I'm sort of impressed:  we're destroying the grass pretty successfully there.

When I was driving up the dirt road to the barn, I'd noticed a puddle.  I don't know what it is about this place, maybe the high humidity or being surrounded by water, but puddles that aren't on asphalt seem to be pretty rare.  So, after we worked in the pasture, I took him over to this puddle to play.

Pony was not impressed.

He kept side-stepping this little thing, never wanting his hooves to touch it, so I dismounted and dragged him through it a couple times.  Success!  Until I got back in the saddle and instead of sidestepping it, he jumped it.

We played in the mud. Ankle boots have made their way back into usage.

Little massacred puddle.

The rest of Saturday was pretty nice.  Relaxing.  We had Indian for dinner, which I was craving.


And Sunday started pretty frazzling.  We slept too late.  I ate a cookie on my way out the door to the barn, where I rode for so long that I didn't get back until almost one in the afternoon.  Then I came bursting in and asked if D was hungry.  Which led to him being grumpy that I had spent so much time at the barn.  But we skipped lunch (NEVER AGAIN!) and went directly to the gym.  From the gym, we went to the library.  I love the library.  I'm stupid for the library.  From the home of the mind cemetery (little bit of Rage Against the Machine for you), we went to photograph puppies and kitties.  They'd had seventeen adoptions the day before, so I wasn't expecting to have to photograph much.  I still had about a dozen on my list.  Then it was off to Goodwill to kill time.  We were both stupidly hungry and weak-feeling.  So, shopping, right?  And then we went to an early dinner and stuffed our silly faces with chips, salsa, beer and nachos.  The night was spent making alterations to some things I'd bought and watching Dr. Who and Harry Potter.

The ride was pretty awesome.  We did three walking laps of warm-up, followed by five of trotting.  Two large laps cantering.  One large lap of walk to cool down.  And three more laps trotting.  Then a change of direction and a repeat.  And then we did all the little jumps.  Last week, where he lost his shit in the roll back, we fixed it.  I gave him a better angle in, going wide, and he smoothly landed cantering on the inside lead and we were able to do that rollback without any problems.  He was absolutely brilliant.  I'm really impressed by how he's cantering and getting the leads.  He even gave me another flying change.

After working in the pasture, I took him out to the meadow.  I'd planned on walking the entire thing, but when we got to the little house at the back, a car was parked in a different spot and was blocking our path.  I've squeezed him by it a few times before, but this time there was an additional problem.  A rooster.

I'm not really terrified of any animal.  I used to own tarantulas.  I love snakes.  Cockroaches are disgusting, but they don't frighten me.  But this rooster, for whatever reason, freaks me out.  I just get mental pictures of him chasing us and trying to spur Archie in the butt or something.  So we immediately reversed and went back the way we came.

Considering that it's New Year's Eve, the husband and I never wavered in our plans for the evening.  We purchased Miller Lite and we're going to order some pizza.  I've talked him into meeting me for lunch after my dentist appointment this morning (at which I am super excited to talk about being bust in the jaw at September's soccer game).  Tomorrow, I'll ride and cook collard greens, black eye peas and cornbread.  Poor husband will have no prosperity this year.  We'll probably go see a movie in the afternoon.  Sleep in.  Relax.  Play with pony.

On my way back to the office from my dentist appointment. They've got the civic center converted to an ice skating rink  and this was outside.

Okay, there are a few things you should know about these videos:

1. This was taken in January, 2009.  I've improved drastically since then.
2. I was doomed to fall at some point.  I think by sitting on my hands and pinching my knees, I was a weeble-wobble waiting to die.  I've improved drastically since then.
3. I bailed because I thought I was going to be launched into the rail.  I've improved drastically since then.
4. When I landed on my butt, I fractured my coccyx in two places. 
1. I immediately got back on (after chasing him down in the barn) and cantered the right lead.
2. D had to help me change clothes and I went to work that night.  I sat on a pillow.
3. I fed horses the next day, hobbling.  I was also the sole walker of my dogs.
4. Monday was MLK day.  I'd already had an appointment to get the horse jumping tattooed on my outside left ankle.  I kept that appointment, but now it meant so much more.
5. Tuesday, when I finally had to go to my real job, I immediately left to go to the doctors, where I learned about the fractures.
6. Coccyx fractures take f o r e v e r to heal.  I couldn't ride for six weeks (docs would have preferred at least eight).  I couldn't really sit comfortably for six months.  To this day, I still have occasional pain.
5. I've improved drastically since then.

After lengthy discussion with Carlos' Mom about bodywork, the Kid might get more massages in addition to the chiro and the stretches.  When I put the liniment on him, I massage at the time of application.  Let me just say:  blows for the hands.  But I know that big ol' bootie has got to be sore from all the new cantering and jumping.

I didn't get to see the beast at all on Christmas.  This isn't normal.  Normally, we make time to give him some beet pulp, warmed with a little brown sugar and peppermints, and D takes pictures of us together.  Not this year!  I'm hoping to spend some extra time with him this weekend.  I hope to brush off my old braiding skills, simply because it's something that I potentially could use again one day.  Maybe.  Or I could be like Solo's Mom and roach his mane.

So, one of my coworkers had told me about a "tack store" just outside of downtown Savannah.  I think this is the same place that BO gets her beet pulp.  D and I went by there on Saturday.  I was skeptical, because I always am, but I was proved right.  Not a tack store.  They had a handful of halters - cotton and cheap leather- and a solitary nylon bridle, complete with cheap, long-shanked thumb bit.  They had a few brushed and hoof picks.  Several winter blankets (though, I'll probably still get his next one from SmartPak).  Some helmets.  And, strangely, eighty bajillion girths and cinches.  I was shocked.  Leather, webbing, fleece lined, and even an okay-looking dressage girth.  Oh, and two very cheap-looking "complete package" English consignment saddles.

I forgot about the one pair of $70 breeches.