I've got 99 problems, but a ditch ain't one.

So, that lesson I was all excited about?  Next Wednesday.  Derp.

I normally go to a cardio kickboxing class on Tuesdays, but I couldn't really pass up the opportunity to ride.  I'm excited about riding again, which is great and horrible, because I wasn't even honest with myself about how much I had begun to loathe this sport.  Sort of the opposite of the old "don't know you miss it until it's gone" saying.  More like, "you know your horse needs fitness to be comfortable, but trotting in the same horrible circle for hours sort of makes you want to retire him and sell everything."  Yay, unintentional intervention!

When I got out to the barn last night, BM was already there.  She's constantly working, which is such a change and something I sincerely appreciate.  I pulled a cavalleti out into the middle of the ring, towards one end.  I pulled him from his pasture and all the other guys wanted to come, too.  The little Arabian might end up as his friend, I think.

He was disgusting.

I'd put his fly mask on the day before and it was covered in dirt, his face was covered in dirt, and mud was dried on his canons.  I brushed and cleaned as best I could, but didn't really attack the dirt until after the ride.  I think I might give him a bath tonight.

We warmed up at the walk again, doing a couple laps in either direction with a cut across the diagonal to change.  I'm so excited about having a diagonal that I can cut across.  I pushed him into a working trot as he really, really wanted to be lazy.  He's had a bunch of changes the past few days, so I get that.  We trotted a couple laps, cut the diagonal, changed directions and did a couple more.  And then we worked on serpentines.

I haven't worked on serpentines in three years and it obviously showed.  The Kid had the hardest time listening to my cues versus thinking about where he thought we should be going.  It was as though he channeled his inner Bobby and mentally screamed CIRCLE?! CIRCLES ARE THE BEST! eighteen times before being abruptly shifted to change direction.

I trotted him over the cavaletti a couple of times before asking him to pick up a canter in what my psyche wants to already call the scary side of the ring.  Fuck you, psyche.  And then we worked on a jumping (though, uh, Kid didn't actually jump, but rather trotted nicely over) exercise that I, again, haven't done in three years.  A figure 8, I guess?  With the jump being the center.  Land, change direction, land, change direction.  And then reverse, so you work both directions of the jump.  It was hard work.  We've got to better our cues and our straightness.

While I was riding, they fed, so I didn't have his entire brain for the last part.

I took him back out in to the woods, but didn't want to be riding for as long as Monday.  We took a different path and Archie was asked a very difficult question.

This little ditch blew his brain.

We walked by it once and then I asked him, with strong calves, to cross it.  He took little dainty baby steps down and back up.  I stopped him, praised him, turned him in a circle and went back over it.  And then we walked back to the barn on a loose rein.  I hosed him off, gawked at the new guy (tall, bay TB) (who cribs) (it's neurological, he can't help it!), applied his fly stuff and some liniment and fed him his dinner.

SO MANY TRAILS!

And grass!

Mother, please.

Food now?

I said that the move wasn't going to be "A Thing."  I wasn't going to get anxious about riding in the new place and I wasn't going to let Archie be an asshole.

I'm pleased to say that we were successful on all fronts.

When I got there and changed, no one was around.  By the time I was back at my car, putting my pathetic boots and half chaps on, the BM showed up.  I asked how everything went and she said he was fine - unremarkable, which is amazing.  She also noted that he hasn't buddied up with anyone yet.  There's supposed to be a new horse coming in the next couple of days.  Maybe that guy can be his friend.

Archie is on the far right.  Little Arabian next to him.

I had no problem grabbing him (even while navigating the hot wire connection) and pulling him out with the rest of the herd politely staying back.  I tacked up (in cross ties!) and he was doing his best llama impression.  I forgot how tall this guy is.

While I was mounting, the BO came over with his son and they proceeded to mow the grass riding area.  I had brief thoughts that Arch might not like that, but I never responded as though it were A Thing.  I walked him across the path of the mower thing and into the ring, where we promptly got to work.  I did a couple laps walking in one direction, keeping him out of the rut created by other horses.  Cut across the diagonal and reverse and walk some more.  Then another cut across and asked for the trot in the corner.  We did five laps trotting in either direction, with a lap of walking between.  He wanted to get a little quick tracking right in the two corners that open to the straight, but I didn't let it be A Thing.

Sand.

This happened.

And then I asked for the canter and cantered a large circle on both leads while praising the fuck out of him.

After the ride, he wanted to go back to the barn.  Instead, I turned him right and walked him around the property.  I got a little lost.  There was one place where we could have jumped a ditch, but I'm not quite ready for that.  He wasn't spooky, but I kept my calves on him and didn't give him the opportunity.  He did get pissy because it was feeding time and he could see the two mares being fed.  He didn't want to move on from that, but a swift kick was sufficient motivation.

There was black marshy gunk on the left.

This doesn't show it properly - as soon as I rounded the corner, this was swampy.  Kid was walking in water.

Still sweaty after our walk around the property.

Loves bath time.

They'd already fed his pasturemates, so I just hand fed him.

But I learned a lot.

Lessons from the Old Barn

In high school physics or chemistry (both of which I passed by the grace of stellar friends and smarter people), I learned the notation for "change".  For whatever reason, it stuck with me all these years.  I know it's a mathematical thing, but even when writing in shorthand for meeting minutes, if there is a change noted, I draw delta.

If I could draw a giant triangle over my life right now, I would.  And then I'd plaster on a smiley face next to it.

So, yesterday?

I got to the barn at about seven and grabbed the Archer from the front pasture and put him in a stall.  Then I fed him about half his normal ration of grain and gave him his SmartPak and his beer.  While he was munching, I loaded a bale of hay on the wheel barrow and put it next to the trainer's trailer.  By this time, she'd shown up.  The newest horse, Number Five?  Totally a Warmblood:  a Westphalian.  She didn't seem too impressed with him and I realized that Archie was the only reason there was any sort of herd separation.

She asked me how he was on a trailer and I admitted that he hadn't been on one since he was trailered from Augusta to Savannah, but that the Kid was a racehorse, so we shouldn't have any problems.  Dude walked up that ramp and into that tiny cave like he did it every fucking day of his life.  Love this guy.

He screamed a few times when we got to one of the bigger intersections, but, driving behind him, I could also see that he was happily munching hay.

When we got to the barn, I unloaded him and walked him up to the barn.  Trainer carried my bale of hay and we parted ways.  She was super nice and told me that if I ever needed anything, to let her know.  I'm sure she has to wonder if she squeezed us out of the old place.

I walked Archie around a little bit, introduced him to the BM and let him sniff his new herd over the fence.  And then it was sudden immersion.
I hung out for about an hour, talking with the BM and just watching.  At one point, I decided I needed to switch his gallop boots for his fly boots and then it was the giant pain in the ass trying to trek him down.  As soon as I got close, someone would start running and he would take off.
And then he took off.
Eventually, though, I caught his sweaty ass and changed the boots.

Husband and I had a more annoying day after that:  I'd blown a tire the night before, so we had to get that fixed, which took forever.  Then I dropped him off to work out and I went to the Humane Society to photograph.  I picked him up, we had dinner, and then I took him back out to the new barn.  And took these:

My new trunk.  Thanks, Hillary!

I've never had a round pen before.

Round pen to the left, grass riding area in center, sand riding ring to right.

A washer and grooming area/wash rack.

Pasture.

Namesake.

Arch in front of the herd.

Like a boss.

The gray and the chestnut next to her are both mares in the connecting pasture.

Love this guy.

Drool.

Birds!

Mom!

Why, yes, that is a cavalleti, a mounting block and some jump standards.

RULES!

In a (not) surprising turn of events, BO texted me yesterday that she got my notice and to inform me that a fifth horse will be coming on Friday.  Like, seriously, y'all couldn't wait for me to leave first?  I don't want other people handling my horse and it's a pain in the ass to keep going there for Pony Meet & Greets.

And I thought I had plans yesterday.  A list of stuff I was going to accomplish, in order:  ride horse, meet vet, take photos, price trunks, pick up more happy pills for Scarlette, mow lawn, upload photos, and cook dinner.  I rode my horse and then the plan fell to shit.

Wicked Witch of the West improvises.

Oh my god, was Archie good yesterday.  He was responsive and forward and moved like a freaking beast.  He was slow to start so I asked him to canter and he trucked around the pasture.  It was actually a lot of fun.  When I changed direction and asked him to canter again, he picked it up brilliantly.  No fuss.  He dropped it a few times and I had to repeat the request, but he gave me no grief.  There was one moment when I felt like he was about to be a shit, going around a turn, so I made sure that I was helping and not hindering and he calmed down.  And then we jumped and he was still phenomenal.  Hard not to be phenomenal over a crossrail, though.  :)

See the kitten?

After I finished riding and hosed him off, I started moving the stuff out of the tack room and into my car.  The trainer chick was there, riding and then clearing more pasture.  I told her that they've accomplished so much and the place looks better than it has in years.  By the time I finished moving everything to my car and started hand grazing Archie, the vet was about half an hour late.  I'd gotten a call that he was en route.  And then I got another call that the battery died in his SUV.  We rescheduled for six.

I put Archie up and headed to the Humane Society to take photos.  There were a ton, but it only took an hour.  So I didn't have enough time to go home and do anything, but I forgot about needing the meds for Scar.  Napping in my car outside of Wal-Mart was unsuccessful, so I just went back to the barn and groomed some more.  Grazed some more.

Mother, I want to be as close to you as possible.

The vet got there a little after six and I think our appointment took all of fifteen minutes for actual vet stuff and another fifteen to talk shit.  When he found out where I was moving Archie, he talked me out of the stat Coggins because he's evidently really good friends with the BM there and knew she wouldn't mind a few days wait.  I verified with her and she was okay.  He recommended holding off (again) on doing a dental float because the Arch has good teeth and a great jaw.  We talked about the trust it takes to agree with a vet about something like this - common thought is to float yearly and it's been two and a half since his last floating.  He reminded me (again) that when he was on the advisory board for the dental whatever through AAEP, the first thing they did was rule out the annual float because it assumes that horses need to be floated when they may not.  (He compared it to saying that humans have to have all of their cavities filled yearly - an assumptive statement because we don't all have cavities.  It took me a second to get what he was saying though, because I always have cavities.  Frown.)

I darted out of there, went home, attempted to mow the jungle that has become our back yard and gave up when the mower died.  It was gloomy for most of the day and the deep recesses of our jungle never dried enough for them not to clog the mower.  Sucks.

In happy news:  my heart lifted driving home yesterday when I pulled up next to my husband at a red light.  I got a package from our favorite Canadian, Julie, full of childhood memories and chocolate.  I ate pizza and beer and chocolate for dinner last night.  And I'm already scheduled for a riding lesson on.my.horse! for next Wednesday with Trainer 3.  Maybe I'll just use her initials or something.  Vet knew her and her farrier husband and was extolling the knowledge of them both.  I'm excited!

En Francais! I might have eaten one almost immediately. Maybe.

Yesterday's ride was interesting.

When I said that the trainer didn't hesitate to do things, I wasn't kidding.  When I got to the barn yesterday, she was there.  She's always there.

The weather was acting funny and she offered to feed for me, but by the time I got to the barn, it was all clear.  So I hopped on the Kid for a quick one before feeding all the guys and turning them out.

I did have a minor glitch while mounting.  It would have been hilarious if anyone had been there to see it.  I'm hopping on my right leg, about to put my foot in the stirrup.  I adjust one more time with that right leg and I fall to the ground.  I ended up detaching the heel from my old left boot.  I need to suck it up and spend some money.

But when I rode, I saw how much she and her husband had accomplished:

I only hope that BO is compensating out the butt because those damn trees have been down for ever.  Long enough for me to cut a path between the two fallen trees and for one to have it's branches start growing straight up.

Archie and I worked on our figure-eights again with a halt on the straight part.  He lost his shit at some point and started to scoot forward, so I took advantage of that impulsion and asked for the canter.  Beautiful transition.  For balance, I asked for the right lead later and he got pissy, crow hopping and bucking.  So I pushed.  Let him walk and immediately asked again.

I fantasize about the canter.  It's really my favorite gait but the transition scares the shit out of me.  But I'll be walking, anywhere, really, but mostly on my way from the office to the car when I have a long distance to cover and just am recovering from the day, and I'll thinking about the canter and how it feels.  I'll envision a soft canter with an inside bend and how I'll approach certain obstacles in the path - curbs, trees, vehicles, people.  Where I would ask for a lead change and where I would shorten the stride.

Yesterday's canter was like a fantasy come true and I was in the moment enough to realize it.  The angry right lead and a bend around a corner, with my shoulders up and my body assisting the movement rather than blocking his path.

I just want to hold on to that forever.

I don't know exactly to describe New Barn.  Y'all will probably have to help with that.  The BM shows regularly, but focuses on breed shows.  She's got paints and Quarter horses, and rides both English and Western.  Is that pleasure showing, then?

She teaches lessons and is the one who told me, a million years ago, that I wasn't at a level that she could teach and then referred me to the Second Trainer, who did dressage.  I took monthly lessons with Second Trainer before getting frustrated that I was riding a horse with too few buttons and that I was spending most of my lesson ignoring the trainer and installing buttons.  Third Trainer is supposed to teach "dressage and jumping", which, actually, is perfectly me right now.

I'm really excited.

I asked the trainer at my (future) Old Barn what she knew about Third Trainer and I got sort of a mixed response.  It boiled down to them having different methods, but that Third Trainer had even had a kid (or kids?) go to the Maclay's.  We both laughed about the fact that if she was there, no harm came from trying.  And then I felt super awkward because I never asked her about taking lessons or anything like that.

While I definitely don't think that I have any sort of impact on Old Barn's other horses or, really, anything there, I had a brief pang of concern.  I'm pleased to say that BO really seems to respect the trainer and listens to what she says.  Likewise, the trainer doesn't appear to have any sort of problem stepping in and just doing things she thinks ought to be done.  She's done loads more than I have, but this is also her job and her reputation.

Migratory pattern of a ground-tied Thoroughbred.

Er..

Is short.

So, in preparation for our move:

• Pull mane.  Did that last night.  Took off so much!
• Trim bridlepath and maybe whiskers.  I like his whiskers, though.
• Start pulling out stuff that I won't be using for the next week - saddle pads, extra saddles, extra bridles.  Might as well clean all this crap, too.
• Start looking into getting a tack trunk of some form. Clean out a rubbermaid container for the time being.
• Put the nifty hand-stamped tags I made on Archie's stuff.

I'm not ashamed.  I'm learning!

• Archie's coggins are expired (THE SHAME!), so he has a vet visit on Wednesday and I'll put a rush on the coggins and get them emailed to me on Thursday or Friday.  It's going to be a super expensive visit anyways, because he's due for all vax and possibly a dental.  But no rads or I/A injections!  (knock on wood)
• Get a bale of peanut hay from BO in order to transition Archie back to Coastal at the New Barn.  After a few weeks of being on Coastal, we'll transition him from sweet feed to senior.  Because pony doesn't need sugar.