Saturday, March 12, 2011

Meanderings

There were only two of us at last evening's lesson. The other woman was on a horse that she'd never ridden before. He can be challenging but by the end of the lesson was behaving better for her than he does for the woman who usually rides him. I was impressed.

My mare wasn't real happy to see me and actually turned her butt to me when I went to get her out of her pen. She also was giving me fits when I tried to bridle her so I knew I was in for a fun ride. She actually didn't behave badly but I just wasn't getting that feeling of us being in harmony that I have on other occasions. We did a ton of trotting so by the time the instructor had us lose the stirrups I could barely keep my legs in position. I kept being corrected to use my thighs, not my knees. The saddle slipped a little when I dismounted so somebody had been extra contrary at tightening the cinch. She is cinchy and goes into drama queen agony before I even get the straps hooked to the billets. Having the saddle slip when I mount is my biggest fear and I think is why I'm always so hesitant when it's time to get on which in turn gives her the opportunity to move away from the mounting block. Vicious circle.

I talked to my instructor before class about how I'm not ready to enter any "real" shows this year. We agree that I should attend and observe these shows and if I'm to do any competing it should just be at the barn shows. I can get by wearing my paddock boots and half chaps (cleaned up, of course) white breeches, a shirt and jacket.

My desire for my own dressage saddle has turned into more of an argument than a discussion with my husband. I don't think he's going to be a good horse husband. Yesterday he was grumbling about what a racket it is that students pay "them" to groom "their" horses. I don't dare tell him about the other stuff I voluntarily do like sweeping the aisles, hauling water, etc. He always thinks I'm being taken advantage of when in reality I'm doing something I want to do. You'd be hard pressed to get me to do something I dislike for nothing. He had a horse as a kid and is totally over them. I'm just beginning this journey and I hope it doesn't turn into a contention in our lives together. He'd probably have a heart attack if he knew I was looking at horses for sale in the $60,000 to $90,000 range the other day. I like to window shop. I don't feel compelled to buy. He doesn't bother looking at something unless he's actually in the market for it. He says it makes him depressed to look at stuff he can't have. Not me, I love to fantasize.

Speaking of fantasies, if I was a magician I could construct a horse out of all the hair my horse is shedding. She's getting darker as she's shedding out. I think she's dun colored and I am considering dragging my hair dresser to the stable to see if she could color my hair the same as her mane. It has a bunch of different colors, including silver, which would be appropriate for my age.

4 comments:

  1. Hair has been on my mind a lot lately too. I've been avoiding paying the usual $70 for a cut and color since I'm out of work, but now the top half of my hair is gray while the bottom half is auburn, and it gets in my face so often that I'm pulling it back into a ponytail. I think I'll splurge for an appointment next week. I didn't know anyone could sell a horse in that price range in today's economy.

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  2. I used to do my share of window shopping for horses. Now I have too many to even think about that. The good thing is there isn't anything out there better than what I have so no reason to window shop anymore.

    I hope you husband doesn't give you fits about horse things. That's a hard place to be.

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  3. If your mare turned her butt to you last night, it probably wasn't about you, but rather something that happened to her during the day that made her cranky. Happens to us all. ;)


    Yikes, I didn't know horses were going for that much!!

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  4. Having a supportive horse husband is a rare thing. A friend taughtnme one key rule in dealing with my spouse on horses. What happens at the barn, stays at the barn.

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