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lagilmanThe grrr: The fact that momma, daddy, and little brother come to hang out while Sis has her riding lesson is wonderful -- I'm sure it's a good bonding experience. But if you HAVE to bring your small yapping dog without any stable manners with you, please keep it away from the stalls and/or anywhere people may be walking horses. Because if I'd had less experience dealing with spooked/nervous horses, today might have had a Very Bad Ending. (to be fair, dad had words with little brother and took the dog off to one of the unused paddocks. But jeebus, people! Look at how the stable dogs and cats behave, and get a clue!)
the ow: I seem to have passed some sort of test last week, because C turned it up a notch, today. After in-saddle stretches, the next twenty minutes were given over to 2-point/posting/sitting/2-point trots, over and over, while C worked my legs and I worked the upper body, and owwwwwwww. Legs back, elbows bent, shoulders open, seat back, core grounded, eyes forward, chin up, heels down.... Multitasking until it's muscle memory. Owwwww. But it's paying off, because there were periods of 3-10 strides where it all came together and dayum baby, that feeling when you and the horse and the world are in perfect sync is like nothing else -- you know you nailed it, and so does the horse. That's the addiction, right there.
the perfect: I got two of 'em, in fact. "That's it, that was perfect!" I would then promptly lose it again but hey, baby steps. And we got good marks on the trot-canter-trot transition, too (Sancho has a bad head-bob tendency when he picks up his canter that keeps throwing me off, but once he's started he's got a nice rocking gait)
And, because Sancho was done for the day after my lesson, I got grooming time in, too. Sometimes I'm not sure which I enjoy more, the riding or the grooming. Different kinds of satisfaction
This is my boy, Sancho, just before I took him out to play. He's perfect-sized for me -- his withers are about nose-high to my 5'4" (so that would make him... 15.6 hands? Something like that? Help me out, equine-owners!). (EtA: I should specify that 'perfect sized' means 'within my comfort zone.' I used to ride a near-17 hander named Sandman, and as much as I loved that troublemaker, I was never perfectly relaxed on him)
This is Peanut, the one-eyed pony of previous mention. His withers are about forearm high on me, and I think I saw a stuffed pony his size for sale at FAO Shwartz one December...
And this is Peewee, proof that someone has a perverse sense of humor. I'd need a step-stool to reach his withers (okay, not quite. But close. Can we say draft blood, boys and girls? ). He's a big'un
the ow: I seem to have passed some sort of test last week, because C turned it up a notch, today. After in-saddle stretches, the next twenty minutes were given over to 2-point/posting/sitting/2-point trots, over and over, while C worked my legs and I worked the upper body, and owwwwwwww. Legs back, elbows bent, shoulders open, seat back, core grounded, eyes forward, chin up, heels down.... Multitasking until it's muscle memory. Owwwww. But it's paying off, because there were periods of 3-10 strides where it all came together and dayum baby, that feeling when you and the horse and the world are in perfect sync is like nothing else -- you know you nailed it, and so does the horse. That's the addiction, right there.
the perfect: I got two of 'em, in fact. "That's it, that was perfect!" I would then promptly lose it again but hey, baby steps. And we got good marks on the trot-canter-trot transition, too (Sancho has a bad head-bob tendency when he picks up his canter that keeps throwing me off, but once he's started he's got a nice rocking gait)
And, because Sancho was done for the day after my lesson, I got grooming time in, too. Sometimes I'm not sure which I enjoy more, the riding or the grooming. Different kinds of satisfaction
This is my boy, Sancho, just before I took him out to play. He's perfect-sized for me -- his withers are about nose-high to my 5'4" (so that would make him... 15.6 hands? Something like that? Help me out, equine-owners!). (EtA: I should specify that 'perfect sized' means 'within my comfort zone.' I used to ride a near-17 hander named Sandman, and as much as I loved that troublemaker, I was never perfectly relaxed on him)
This is Peanut, the one-eyed pony of previous mention. His withers are about forearm high on me, and I think I saw a stuffed pony his size for sale at FAO Shwartz one December...
And this is Peewee, proof that someone has a perverse sense of humor. I'd need a step-stool to reach his withers (okay, not quite. But close. Can we say draft blood, boys and girls? ). He's a big'un
no subject
Date: 2008-04-02 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-02 01:47 am (UTC)It was hard for me to learn not to judge or argue with that gut decision. Yes, I'm passing on things that used to be very important. Yes, what I'm going for isn't cosmically worthy. But it's what I want, right this minute, and there's nothing wrong with that, whereas not listening to that gut would only lead to unhappiness.