I was less stressed going to the barn yesterday.

Less stressed is good.

Not my halter.

I spent a little bit of time getting the Kid tacked up in the aisle, versus the wash-rack, because I thought that the BM's daughter might need the wash-rack.  NBD.  He was fine there, like always.  He's such a good Kid.

When I mounted, I realized that there was going to be a lesson in the ring pretty shortly, so I started trying to achieve stuff.  Walking + Contact = Might be Impossible.  But we tried.  I feel like I got some good connection and then moved from that to the trot.

We trotted in both directions for what felt like a really long time.  I guess I thought that spurs would magically keep him moving, but I still have to nudge him forward pretty regularly.  Sit and squeeze.  And I am still working on not coming out of the saddle as much, trying to anchor myself down with my calves.  There's so much to work on.

After the trots, we cantered.

Can I just gush, again, about how far we've come since moving barns?  I mean, I canter every. single. ride.  I'm not afraid to ask for the canter (though I'm still trying to get smoother).  I'm not afraid of him blowing up.  I'm experiencing any of those tantrums that he used to have.  Is it the clean arena?  The diet change?  The fact that he's really on pasture board now and doesn't have a barn to hide in?  The trainer?  The harder rides?  Is he just plain happier?

With the canter transitions, I'm still working on this concept of not chasing him.  He's on to the spur and he'll lunge forward, but I don't think that's ideal, either.  Yesterday, I thought back to riding IHSA when you never really knew what the horse was like.  And I thought that I would have to start making the transition obvious.  Hey, I'm starting to collect the reins and I'm guiding your face to the outside and that outside leg is nudging you.  And now I'm clucking and if you don't respond, I'm going to poke you.  It works.

We did some big loopy circles at the canter, trying to keep him from falling in and trying to work on that lengthening thing with my legs.  After that work, we trotted the poles that were still hanging out.

I tried to take him on a trail ride, but we were immediately attacked.

Those little black dots are mosquitoes that I murdered for touching my horse.