Busy weekend!  I'll try not to bog it down with too many words.

Friday brought us jumps.  The guy on the left is on hole four, the guy on the right is on hole three.  I have to take the PVC pipe off the cavalleti next time, because Archie did not respect it.  Every time he went over it, there was a loud, resounding thunk from his hooves hitting the pipe.

I wasn't sure what kind of horse I'd have, since he was slightly bonkers the day before.  He was good, solid.  Brave to the base of the itty-bitty fences.  We finished on an awesome note, when he cantered out after the big crossrail and I'd finally felt the form that I had felt in my lesson with T3.

Such a good Kid.

We discovered leaves.  It was magical.

Oh, and I gave this guy a cookie ONE TIME and he persists to follow me through his pasture.

Saturday brought us to Game Day.  Long time readers might recall (or not) (because it has nothing to do with horses) that D and I went to a game last year.  We did things a little differently this time, because it was an afternoon game and not an evening game.  No bueno.  We left Savannah at 5 AM on Saturday and returned at 2 AM on Sunday.  That aspect of it was pretty damn miserable.

Pretty.  Straight out of iPhone.

I thought this was hilarious.

Much drinking was had.  This fellow told me that he was Canadian and was trying to blend in.

Me and my dad.

Happy birthday, handsome husband!

Um, fuck yes.  Boiled peanuts complete me.

You'd think that since we got home so late on Sunday morning, we would take Sunday easy.  You'd be wrong.  I got up at about ten and went to get the girls.  Then it was home to do some chores, go get lunch, go clothes shopping, go to the gym, take photos at the Humane Society (where I fell in love with a GSD and D contemplated taking home a Siamese and two snow-shoes), to the barn to work on our flat work and finally to eat dinner.

I tried to oompf my metabolism yesterday and ate a bunch of healthy snacks between meals.  Baby carrots and fruit.  By the time that I was driving out to the barn, I was ravenous and weak in the knees.  Woo.

Archie was supposed to have had his feet done on Wednesday but instead they were done yesterday.  I'm glad I didn't drive out on Wednesday, because I would have been pissed.  The Subie is known for guzzling gasoline.  (Side note:  I'm in the process of trying to find a car.  Woo!  Downer:  I'm super fucking picky and I want it to be either blue or black, preferably a Ford Fiesta, manual, a hatchback, have fewer than 40k miles and I'd shit bricks if it had a sunroof.)

The wind was blowing, the weather had been shit all day, and Archie was giving me major hairy eyeballs.  I guess the temperature had dropped about twenty degrees in the past two weeks or so.  Yeah, so the Kid was acting more like the horse I know:  spooky and crazy and questioning.

I was still able to get contact at the walk and the trot.  The canter was a little weird because he felt like a tightly coiled spring below me.  The transition to the right lead had one of those massive, angry strides that he used to do at the old barn.  I had thought that it was because I was running him into the change, but last night there was no running into it.  I felt him tighten up, trotted him out, felt him loosen, maintained contact and sat while squeezing with that outside calf.  He exploded up and out and I just praised him for picking up the correct lead and had him canter out a lap.  The mind boggles.

A coworker sent me a link yesterday to a news article about an outbreak of EEE in my county.  Actually, in the county I live in, but my horse lives in a different one.  And can you call it an outbreak if there was only one horse?  Anyways, a positive.  And the BO from my Old Barn called me three times, left two voicemails of gibberish (pocket dialing?) and a third saying that she saw that I called a couple times and to give her a call back.  Wha?  It's like when D's grandmother asks if we just tried to text her.

Tonight, I ride.  Husband drops the dogs off at boarding.  Tomorrow, we drive to Athens, drink our little asses off, and watch UGA slaughter LSU.  Come home by Sunday, rescue the pups, ride, work out, and recover.

Best way to end the day.

Because it's raining for the second day in a row.  Gots no fodder, y'all.

I'm stressed.

And it's silly, right?

I'm stressed because my life is too full.

There's a trail in the city where I board Archie that I've been dying to go to.  So I waited until the husband got home and we loaded up the dogs and headed out.  I stopped by the barn first, to put on his fly mask and make sure his leg wasn't falling off.  It weren't.

BM stopped me to tell me that the farrier (same guy that I saw at the old barn) would be by on Wednesday to put the shoe back on.  Oh, and when would I have the money?

Er.  What money?  She then explained that if he tacked on one shoe, he would charge me.  Even though he's tacked on shoes before and never charged me.  So might as well do all his feet a week early.  Which just annoyed me, because then he'll have to go seven weeks next time between shoeings.  And in the back of my mind, I'm thinking about how T3 told me that her husband was a farrier and a journeyman and, you know, probably nicer.  I'm not good with abrupt changes, though.

It was dark and gross by the time we made it to the trail.  It was super dog friendly and there were a lot of dogs.  Unfortunately, husband immediately darted off and left me by my lonesome.  I was indescribably pissed to be left in the dust with my furry daughters, whom I adore, in the middle of an exquisite nature trail.  Silly, I know.

So, today, I've got to go get thank-you cards (because my parents are amazing, amazing) and money for the farrier on my lunch break.  And then a gym class after work (because if I don't go, I won't get reimbursed for this month).  Then a super secret shopping mission, in an effort to not be a shitty wife.  Finally, driving out to BFE to leave money for the farrier.  See?  Too full.  I was planning on another pot of bad-ass chili, but I won't get home until about 8 and I'd still have to go to the grocery store.  Oh, and have I mentioned the dying of my external hard drive?  My poor ancient laptop has been working nonstop for about 36 hours now uploading my 100 gig folder of photos to an online storage system on our economy cable internet.  Woo.  Which also means that the photos I took on Sunday haven't been uploaded, edited or shared.  Those kids will probably be adopted before their faces hit the website (not a bad thing!).

Third pasture!

I went out to the barn on Friday and we did flat work.  I love that I am at the point that I can differentiate, because it means I'm doing more.  Just trying to remember to lengthen my leg, keep my upper body immobile, contract my lower abs, keep my hands in front of the saddle, shorten with my elbows, maintain contact, squeeze with my calves and not my knees, and breathe.  Yeah.

When I was finishing up with Wonderpony, who was amazing and willing and trying, BM was leading a lesson horse/rider from the woods and advised me about a change in hunting season.  Seems there won't be any major trail rides any time soon.  Bow hunting season has started and even though part of the land has been marked, she worries.  So I was told to stay on the main trail for the time being.  Talk about scary.  I might invest in a fluorescent vest.

On Saturday, I set up a cross rail with a ground pole and a cavaletti.  The Archer was not impressed.  We had to go over it several times and he never gave it the same respect that he gave the larger crossrail that T3 had set up.  I tried to capture some of it on video.  I might be special.  You'll see.  (Tomorrow?) Unfortunately, I didn't have a lot of time because light was fading and I still had to feed him.

Go ahead and get up early.

I'd planned to ride yesterday, but awoke to rain.  And then it proceeded to drizzle all freaking day.  It was nice to have a relaxed day inside with nothing super important (other than lunch, photos at the HS, a workout at the gym and the crash of my external hard drive).  And this morning, BM texted me that the Kid had thrown a shoe.  Fucker.  I wish he could go barefoot.  Thankfully, BM has the responsibility of contacting the farrier (I asked if I ought to).

This weekend, we're going to the UGA vs. LSU game.  It's the hub's birthday weekend and my schedule next week is going to be all sorts of weird.  And then our third anniversary is Wednesday.  I'm a horrible wife and still haven't gotten him anything, but hope to remedy that tomorrow.

I got this yesterday morning:

iOS 7?  I am a believer.

I tried not to stress about it, but of course I'm thinking of Chosen by a Horse, brain tumors, eye tumors and how my little amazeball OTTB would do jumping with one eyeball.  Because swelling automatically leads to amputation, right?

This left eye has caused us some problems in the past, too.

Derp.

So I went out last night to assess the situation.  After photographing at the Humane Society and running a couple miles.

My darling horse is pushing the other guys away.  Also, hello, fall.

Not too bad!

Squirrely eye for comparison.

Okay, worse.

Cold compress.

Fly mask and threats cookies.

Follow me anywhere, Kid!

I think it's fallen under the category of "watch".  I'm tempted to contact my old vet friend in Augusta to see if he would recommend a flush or something.  I know the vet is supposed to come out next month to do coggins and stuff, so if it's still an issue then, I'll get him stained and checked for an ulcer.  I said a couple weeks ago that he got all weird squinty-eyed.  He'll continue to wear the fly mask and I'll continue to flush with cold water/compress after my rides.  Of course, if he swells up like he did in 2008, I'll call the vet immediately.

I had my third lesson with T3 last night.  You can read about the first one here and the second one here.

Walking downtown in breeches and Tevas.

Yet again, I felt a little cramped for time.  I was able to walk him around for about ten minutes before my lesson, though, so I must not have been that bad.  I went in, did a lap at the walk, and immediately picked up the trot.  I tried to show off what we've been doing.

There was considerably less correction this time and the things that were corrected seemed to be finer details.  We got through trotting pretty quickly, with absolutely no counter-bend.  He was pretty damned balanced.  And there were moments where I literally felt the holy grail: that front end came up and was light and that back end was lifted, too.  Spurs really help!

Cantering went quickly, too.  We've progressed from working on his balance to working on my equitation.  I have to fight to keep my upper body still and not curl into the fetal position.  I also have to work on my knees because I pinch like hell.

But after ending both trot and canter on very good notes, T3 said the magical words,

"Do you want to jump?"

Insert schoolgirl squees.  She asked what she should expect from my jumping - I said he would probably lesson pony over it and that it would be messy.  We jumped a low cross rail one time and he took it as a little fence.  We went back over it and he lesson pony trotted over it.  So she put a ground rail about nine feet out.  And raised the rails while moving the standards out, so the center of the cross rail was just less than two feet.

I did this.  Multiple times.  Like a fucking boss.

And then we had to talk about my particular style of jumping:  standing straight up on my toes.  What?  I'm amazing.  We talked about how it should actually look: closer to his body, heels down, sumo-squatting.

I got left behind one time and I am so fucking proud of myself.  Not proud for getting left behind, but proud of my instincts.  I couldn't get my body up in time, so I thrust my hands forward into his mane.  I did not catch my horse in the mouth.  I was so relieved.

After jumping the big cross rail a few times both directions, she asked if I wanted to jump the vertical.  I wimped out.  I said it was too big.  It was only a little bigger than the cross rail, but I admitted to her that the cross rail was on the very edge of my comfort zone.  The holes in the standards are cut weird - like every six inches instead of three? - so the closest we figured was that the vertical was at two feet.  Inches.  Inches scared me.

Instead of that, we did a little line of a small cross rail to a cavaletti.  And then turned it to a course with the addition of my big cross rail.  Both directions.  Finished strong and praised the snot out of my pony.

I asked how often I could start jumping him and was told that I could do it three times a week.  Why not?  He's fitter now than he was three weeks ago.  I just can't be a wimp about the size.  He doesn't respect small fences and so I've got to raise height, increase spread and use ground rails to keep his attention.  Who knew Ponykins was picky?

And my notes from the lesson:

• Watch his left hip when he falls right when tracking left.  Try bending and if that doesn't work, move the hip.
• When he lifts into the contact, relax hands but continue to push with legs.
• Contract lower abs to bring hips forward at the canter.
• Keep upper body still and tall, with ears behind hips.
• Relax knees and wiggle toes.
• Breathe.
• Sumo squat over jump, while pushing legs towards his shoulders.
• Heels should be at the lowest point when his front two feet hit the ground after a jump.

Love this face.  Grins all around.

This is so random, but I wanted to share:  I thought about getting a German word tattooed when I went to DC.  But the more-practical-and-possibly-more-intelligent husband advised against getting foreign words (that I can neither say nor spell) tattooed on my body by a stranger.  Touché, husband.

So I dreamt I got a fox on my right thigh.  And the old foxhunter in me is thrilled.

When I got to the barn last night, I recognized my vet's SUV pulled up to the barn aisle.  Never a good sign.  I questioned BM's kid, who said that it was sort of chaotic but that everyone was fine.  Vet said hi to me by name, waved, and left.  I still don't know what was going on.

I changed, grabbed my camera and the Kid, taking some horrible photos.  I think he's getting ribby.  I'm going to request that his Senior feed get upped and I'm also going to start him on Gleam & Gain 60.  It's got good reviews and no mention of added energy.  I know he's slow, but I don't want him hot.

It was another day that I knew the BM would be having a lesson and the sky was also all sorts of grumbly.  We worked a lot on cantering until I told him to stop and meeting the contact at both the canter and the trot.  Legs stayed long, butt stayed near the saddle.  I finished by walking him around in his old pasture, asking for both the trot and the canter.

After cooling him out, loading all of his tack in my car to be cleaned tonight, and feeding him, I took him to the pasture.  And then I drove home through a fucking monsoon.

Things accomplished this weekend:

• We cantered a cavalleti set to its lowest setting on both leads.  
• Neither of us died, though I think the poor Archer is confused at having to work.
• I haven't forgotten how to jump, which constantly surprises me.  I mean, cantering a fence (er.. a pole?) is different than trotting a fence.  Cantering a fence without digging your ass into the horse's spine is also a different thing.  It's like my fucking game face came on, my shoulders came back, my eyes locked on to the outside rail, I got tall and light and still led him to the base of the "jump".  Why am I not doing this shit more often?!

• We went the furthest, thus far, on the left trail.  It's a long dirt road that is supposed to lead somewhere else, but dead-ends on another asphalt road.  I think this would be good for cantering, when my balls drop.

• Counter-canter!
• Almost immediate and maintained contact at the trot.  
• I discovered a deep yearning for gloves.

And the pinky stays pristine.

• We went down and up over the bigger, more narrow ditch.
• I missed a group trail ride, which made me sad.  I'm going to try to attend the next one, because balls.  Right?  My horse can accomplish anything I don't inhibit him from.
• My legs have started to figure out this whole gripping-the-horse-with-the-calves-and-a-long-thigh thing.  It's pretty magical.
• We did collection/extension work at the canter.  You can be surprised.

Oh, and something went for the Kid's jugular.

• Rotating the ankle to engage the spur has become almost second nature.  I think this is aided by my legs figuring out how to leg.
• In pure weekend fashion, I drank a shit ton of beer.  And a martini.  And ate some chocolate.  I also hit the gym twice and photographed puppies and kitties at the Humane Society.

Grayson wanted to come home with me.

• I fell in love with my body.  This is sort of a big deal.  As much as I'd like to look like a fitness model by the time I turn thirty, it isn't going to happen.  But there was this point, looking at myself doing my little weight-free warm-up squats and I was amazed at what I saw.  Strength.  Muscle.  Definition.  Toned legs and a strong back and a tight ass.  Fuck the scale.  I'm amazing.

Squirrel Mutt loves her mother, regardless of what her body looks like.

Derp. Derp.

Is it just me, the angle of the camera, or is his butt getting a little bigger?

Had a great ride on ponykins, with lots of clicking in his brain.  Contact can be maintained, you can go forward, all of this is okay.  Lots of trot work with circles and serpentines and even a little bit of lateral work.  And then I felt like we cantered for days, also with a lot of circles.  We had a bit of an issue breaking when tracking right and then picking up the correct lead.  I think he'd benefit from some chiro work, because it's been forever and he's had so many body changes.

The BM's daughter was riding when I went in to the ring, but we were able to stay out of each other's way.  I'm learning more about Western riding and I really haven't been giving it enough credit.  While I don't agree with some of the practices, just like I don't agree with some of the English practices, they definitely put in a lot of hard work.  I think the kid would be killer at dressage.

I forgot to mention this, but my barn has an eventer!  I met her the other night.  She's got a huge, bay OTTB (I think I've shown him in some photos with Arch - he's got like a hand on my Kid) named Johnny.  She was out of town for a month and recently came back and is super keen on getting Johnny fit.  She was asking me if there were any galloping spots around.  Uh.. there's nothing in Savannah.  But she was lunging when I took Archie out of the ring to go on our trail ride.  Her horse is a nice mover and I'm very excited to watch her bring him back to par.  I asked her what level they did and she said Novice.  I think she said the only thing holding them back from Training was the dressage, because he absolutely loves cross country.  I hope she takes some lessons with T3 and I hope I can manage to watch some.

Archie and I had a couple Come To Jesus moments on our trail ride.  First, he didn't want to cross the ditch.  I guess because it recently dried out and is still sort of black and muddy.  And then he didn't want to go down the area that takes us to the sandy road/river/swamp thing.  Dipshit spun a few times and the next thing I know, he's falling into the drainage pipe.  I growled at him - because the monkey on your back should be scarier than anything in the woods.  We had a nice, forward, marchy walk after that.

You know I love showing vague, blurry photos of where things have happened.  Pipe is hidden in that green growth.

Like this.  WTF is this?

After I rode, there was a moment when BO, Johnny's mom, and Marlboro's mom were all at the barn.  Night was setting and we were talking about taking a group trail ride soon.  Bliss, guys.  Bliss.

Finished version!

Backside.

But I'll blame it on emergencies.

I took Tuesday, which is my normal kickboxing cardio day, off from all activities.  Because I need a day during the week in which I come directly home or have the option to run by a couple stores or whatever.  The point is that it's a day that I'm not frazzled and stressed about getting from Point A to Point B to Point C and then maybe home, if I'm lucky.

So I went home and worked on a little art project (tutorial below), grilled out with my husband, ate some icecream, bit into some Starburst candy corn and promptly cracked a molar.

I called my dentist on my way in to work and the only time they could fit me in was 10:30 yesterday morning.  My boss okay'd it and I told him that if I had injections, I wouldn't be coming back.

I'm smiling.  Promise.

Needless to say, two injections and two hours spent napping.  Even if I take ibuprofen prior, I get a raging headache from those jaw injections.  I don't know if it's because needles are going where needles aren't meant to go or if it's a reaction to the Novacaine.  It's a bitch.  My jaw is still tender.

So instead of riding my pony again last night, as was my initial plan before porcelain fell out of my face, I spent the evening on the couch folding laundry, updating Two Black Dogs, and straightening up the kitchen.  We're having our first dinner guests this weekend and I want this to be a good experience.

Freezer Paper Camp Crafts

Derp.

Fancy-ass aluminum shoe.

Iron, shiny-side down.

Realize you're a fucking idiot...

And angrily rip off the old one and reattach the inverse.

Fill with paint.

Make your design!

Forget to take a finish-product photo and instead photograph your dog rolling in the grass.