Each horse show season, if you’re lucky, you’ll witness a few golden moments. The short-stirrup rider at her first horse show winning a ribbon. The kid who never pins finally getting a blue ribbon. The junior in her last year of eligibility qualifying for the finals. These moments send a shiver up your spine and bring a tear to the eye. They’re all the more poignant when you know the kid, the family, the trainer or the horse involved.
I was lucky enough to witness a golden moment this past weekend at our local horse show, hosted at our home barn, Missy Ann Stables. I was working the in-gate, one of those jobs (like braiding) that I started doing in my teen years and find myself still doing at 40 (what is wrong with me?).
It’s a big step for a junior equitation rider to go from fence heights of 2’6”-2’9” to 3’-3’3”. Many riders on our local circuit have made the leap this year, some more successfully than others. I’ve talked to moms and dads who haven’t adjusted to the step up as well as their kids and mounts. A three-foot course is big. Suddenly, your kid is navigating in and outs, tight roll back turns and complicated tests—and this is the same kid who claims not to know how to make a bed or a sandwich.
Today is August 4. The fat lady is not singing. Elvis is still in the building. However, many of my fellow Vermont barn mates are lamenting the inevitable end of summer. I will not tolerate this heresy.
It’s not atypical. Summer in Vermont is short. Winter is long. Riding outside is a precious gift, one that we lose in mid-November if we’re lucky. We won’t get to experience outdoor riding again until late April or early May.
But why does this fact make people feel like they must dismiss summer just as it begins to feel comfortable? Is it some kind of defense mechanism? I can see it coming: Someone will be discussing a recent horse show where the weather was hot, talk about how much they enjoyed eating out on the deck the other night, how they just booked a weekend at the beach for the end of next month…and then…they get the look. The look, followed by, “because, you know…”
And then I can’t let them finish. Dr. Evil has nothing on me. “Zip, zip, zip it. No! Don’t say it!” This is inevitably followed by, “But, but, but, you, it’s…….” I can’t even let the person finish the sentence. I will not hear it. I will cover my ears and scream, “lalalallalalalalalalalalalalI’mnotlisteningI’mnotlisteningI’mnotlistening.” I can even see this coming in people I don’t know very well, and I have slightly offended a few people in the last week by not allowing them to finish their sentences. I can’t help it.
Do you know what they all want to say? Here goes: “Summer is almost over.” “Before you know it, the leaves will start to turn.” “Winter will be here soon.” “I haven’t even had a chance to enjoy summer, and it’s almost over.”
ENOUGH!
IT’S NOT ALMOST OVER!!!!!
There are 28 days left in August. Four weeks. More time than most of us get for vacation in a year. Stop complaining and start enjoying. Not to mention that we’ll still have summer-like weather in September. Unless, of course, it snows.
Here are the things I can think of that I’ve done in just the last week with the express intention of enjoying summer:
- Drank a beer (OK, two) in front of the barn last night with good barn friends.
- Drank coffee on the deck on Saturday morning with my husband.
- Grazed a horse in the sunshine, taking the time to feel it on my face, arms and neck.
- Went to a horse show and appreciated the fact that I was not cold, it was not raining, and Vermont is a very, very beautiful place.
- Drank glasses of half-iced-tea-half-lemonade with lots of ice.
- Ate ice cream.
- Wore shorts.
- Sweated at the barn while doing chores, so much so, that it looked like I wet my pants.
- Went running outside.
Figure out what you’ve got to do to enjoy the season and DON’T EVEN TRY TO TELL ME THAT IT’S ALMOST OVER.
It’s not.
If you feel like you are suffering from this malaise, go out and do something that means “summer” to you. Report back—I’ll listen while you tell me all about it, and I promise to let you finish.
This article was originally published on The Chronicle of the Horse website.
We’re back from the summer GMHA hunter/jumper horse show. You’ll remember that our first outing of the season to the lovely grounds in Woodstock, Vt., was deemed an “estrogen nightmare” by my husband. He didn’t make out too much better at this horse show. When our StoneHaven group gathered for dinner on Saturday night, we numbered 15: 13 women, plus Paul and the boy. When the other dads finally showed up on Sunday, they got an earful from Paul. (They were accused of spending the rest of their weekend home alone and pants-free.)
The show was very well attended, and the weather was hot, but no rain. We were stabled in the recently renovated Upwey Barn. Even with temporary stalling placed throughout the grounds, there was a waiting list to get a stall for the show. What a great turnout!
Rachel, sans head.
Recently returned from a horse show, I reviewed the pictures I had taken. I was planning to share them with the usual suspects: grandparents, friends, the owner of the horse we’re leasing, the parent of the other rider I had taken to the show, etc.
I downloaded the photos from the borrowed camera (a very nice Cannon) and was excited to view the results of four days of snapping away. I knew the results would be good, because the mom who owns this camera always comes back from horse shows with excellent pictures.
Hmmmm, OK, let’s see…Here’s one of Samantha in the temporary stall with Mondavi, here’s one of Rachel with Misty…their heads seem to be a little fuzzy. Here’s one of our trainer Tara from the back…but her hind end is all distorted…why don’t the pictures of me come out like that? OK, beginner’s nerves, that’s all. I hadn’t become quite comfortable enough with a new camera, just working out the kinks.
Who needs the new iPhone? These 12-year-olds are happy to go to horse shows.
Our trip to Northampton, Mass., is over, and we’re back from the 24th Annual Northeast Benefit Horse Show. The girls (Samantha and Rachel) started off their show week by competing in the “Hopeful Jumper” division. What a great name. These two 12-year-old girls couldn’t have been more thrilled to compete in the jumper ring. Many riders were feeling hopeful—there were 29 entries in each class.
The second class was power and speed. Samantha successfully remembered her course and jump-off without missing a beat. The girls both agreed that riding in polo shirts rather than show shirts and coats was awesome, especially since it was close to 90 degrees.
The next day was hunters, and both girls earned blue ribbons—Rachel in the pony hunter division and Samantha in the pre-children’s hunter. It’s always fun to see Rachel’s Misty, a rescued Mustang pony, win against pony brethren blessed by far cushier upbringings. Rachel’s mom cried when I called to tell her the news.
There were ribbons in the equitation divisions as well and many attempts to qualify for the Massachusetts Mini Medal. A few points were earned, but if we want to make it to the Massachusetts Medal Finals in October, we’ll need to schedule a few more trips to Massachusetts, which is just fine with Samantha and Rachel. Who knew there was a 2’6” mini-medal equitation final for the under 15 set? Unfortunately for my wallet, my kid now knows and has it on her radar.
I managed to survive the week without any additional poop incidents. Jenna Leigh Teti was the photographer on site. Her work is simply beautiful. Her trio of helpers was very entertaining. By the fourth day they were a bit punchy, wondering why horse show people seem to want the horse show day to drag on and on and on. Our days were blessedly short. Most nights we were back at the hotel by 7 p.m. and the girls were in the pool by 7:07 p.m.
Today, it’s back to work. Thankfully, it’s a good day to be in an air conditioned office. But I’d trade it for another day at a horse show in a heartbeat.
I couldn’t live in this barn, it’s cleaner that I am.
Greetings from Northampton, Mass. We’re here for the 24th Annual Northeast Benefit Horse Show. This is Samantha and Mondavi’s first “A” rated show. The schedule is somewhat unusual—it’s a Monday-Friday horse show, leaving horse people in New England free to participate in “normal people” summer holiday-weekend activities. That is, of course, assuming they can remember what normal people do on the weekend.
I’m very fortunate to have this entire week off work, and have in my care not one, but two horse show kids. I love it! It makes me feel cool when another mom trusts me with her kid for an extended field trip. (I know, I’m a geek.)
When we arrived from Vermont, the thermometer was pinned at 88 degrees, with nary a breeze. We found our assigned stalls, quickly unloaded our supplies and dumped bag upon bag of shavings into the stalls. My sneakers filled with crunchy, sweet-smelling shavings, mixing with the sweat. Excellent.
We prepared for warm-ups. In the process, I was schmeggied by both Misty and Mondavi with green stuff and brown stuff. After warm-ups, we bathed. So then I got wet. It was still really hot, and I was sweating profusely. I pretty much looked like I had wet my pants. Sorry, there’s no real graceful way to describe it. I noticed my fingernails were black.
As I walked around the show grounds in this state, I realized that the other mothers looked a little…cleaner. Hmmmm, what am I doing wrong? I saw quite a few teenage girls, clearly here to work as grooms. T-shirts, shorts and paddock boots, dirt and sweat running down their faces. That’s what I looked like too. Once a groom, always a groom.
Seeing these girls reminded me of all the years I worked as a groom. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life. Well, except when I worked jump crew for Gerry Briggs. I thought my spine was going to pop out of my mouth. I digress…
As we prepared to leave the barn for the night, my final task was to wrap Mondavi. This is my job because Samantha’s wrapping has not yet been approved for takeoff. She practices diligently, and hopeful this can become her job before the show season ends.
Bending down in this sweating state ain’t easy. As I huffed and puffed away, Mondavi decided he had to poop. Thanks, Mo Man. The horse has a sense of humor. Apparently, now that he’s been adopted by the Howell family, he feels a need to participate in the never-ending banter of potty-humor. He squeezed out a little extra “juice” which dripped all down the side of me and pooled in my hand. Sorry delicate readers, there’s no nice way to put it. In my weakened condition, I could not jump away fast enough to avoid the fountain of doom.
Everyone but me thought this was really funny! Yes, it’s awesome! Even better than the time my son projectile vomited in my face, and it filled my bra. Excellent!
I finally showered at 8 p.m. Luckily I packed a big bar of soap.
This article was originally posted on The Chronicle of the Horse website.
Planning a wedding isn’t all that different from planning a horse show. Photo courtesy of Ralph Aiswang.
What’s your favorite horse show? I bet you can tell me in five seconds flat. Why is it your favorite? Some of you will say it’s the food—the caramel apples at the New England Equitation Finals! Others might say Lake Placid because of the super intense grand prix, and the fact that there’s so much to do, see and eat in the lovely town. Or, maybe your favorite is HITS Ocala because you’re out of the cold and the food is good!
Whether it’s the footing or the nice shady spots, the permanent stalls or the funny announcer who gets everyone’s name wrong, everyone has a favorite horse show.
This weekend, our barn is hosting a two-day show. It’s part of the VHJA circuit. While we may not be on the top of anyone’s “favorite” list yet, we’re hoping to reach that distinction soon.
This is the second show ever held at Missy Ann Stables and the first time most of us involved have helped to plan a horse show. As we entered the final stretch—I (again) realized that my Emily Post day job trickles over to my horse life. At Emily Post, we’ve just released an entertaining book, “Great Get-Togethers.” The book is a great resource and confidence builder for the newbie or reluctant hostess.
Alas, there is no such guide for those of us planning a horse show. Hosting a horse show in many ways is a lot like hosting a big party, say a wedding reception. I spent one summer working on the updated edition of Emily Post’s Wedding Etiquette. I swore I would hire a wedding planner when Samantha got married or pay her to elope. The amount of work and decision-making it takes to plan a wedding is mind-boggling. I’ve learned that planning a horse show is not much different.
Sitting all day is not good for you or me.
This week, I returned to my weekly barn shift. My broken hand is now almost healed. I was practically euphoric picking stalls, sweeping, haying, etc. Why? Because I hadn’t moved like that in nearly two months. For four hours, I never stopped or sat down. Eight weeks away from barn chores had not done good things for me. While I did enjoy a little more freedom on Saturday afternoons, the bad far outweighed the good.
