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.
Horse show fanatics Samantha and Rachel get last minute tips from Tara
Oh my. I know it’s just about the most boring, lame thing to complain about the weather, especially in a blog, but I’m going to do it anyway. On Sunday we did a local show right down the road at the fairgrounds.
From 8 a.m., when the advanced beginner division (Megan and Stormy were drenched!) got underway, to the die-hard juniors that competed in the NEHC medal class late in the afternoon, it poured. Poured. Rained buckets. Dogs, rabbits and feral cats. Sheets. What other rain metaphors exist? It was raining inside the porta-potties. We were all outfitted in our rain coats and appropriate footwear except for the boy, who was instructed to remain in the truck with a blanket, pillow and DVD player.
Of course, we’ve all experienced this before at a horse show or event. (I have a feeling the eventers are a lot tougher and probably don’t even notice the rain.) This rain was made less tolerable by the cool temperatures—it was mid ‘50s.
Warm-ups went well and the rain kept coming. Fortunately, there were rented stalls that we squatted in while our unfortunate barnmates swam over to the ring. Of course at this point, we were all soaked through to our undies so there was really no upside.
Megan and Stormy
These are the days that cause people to ask the question. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves?
And on a day like Sunday, it’s a tough question to answer. Are we crazy? Stubborn? Lacking in social opportunities? Aversion to early morning religious services? I have no sensible answer.
My child was soaked to the bone, shaking with chills, and her cheeks flushed with a rash she sometimes develops when she is exposed to extreme cold for too long. And Mondavi, this lovely horse, stood there with his head hung low, water running off his ears and muzzle, resigned to finishing whatever job we put before him.
Stormy and Megan
Relationships between children and animals are fascinating. There’s a young rider at our barn named Megan, age 8. Her big sister Rachel rides too. The family owns a mustang pony named Misty who has turned into a champion pony hunter and jumper. Sometimes when two girls in the family ride, they share a pony or horse.
But Megan is not quite ready for Misty. She prefers Stormy, and, without a doubt, Megan is the person that Stormy prefers above all others.
Stormy is a pony complete with the pony traits we all know. When he first arrived at the barn, he escaped from his stall a few times. He unlocked his stall door in less time than it takes me to blink. While loose, he walked around and taunted the other horses who remained behind bars. He did this three times in one hour, before the fledgling barn employee (OK, it was me!) attached a double-ended snap to the lock.
When Stormy first came to the barn, he was to be our trainer’s first school pony, a generous loan from a good friend and horsewoman named Wanda. Wanda has a gift for finding ponies. Not just any ponies, the kind of ponies that little girls dream about. Ponies with flaxen manes and tails, ponies that come in from the paddock muddy, get cleaned up for a show and then win everything in sight.
Stormy first came to the barn after a winter off. Samantha was one of the only kids in the barn then, so she was charged with schooling him a few times a week to help him get back in shape. With her fast growing gangly legs, Samantha easily slid off Stormy a few times before she grew accustomed to his shape and size. Laughing so hard she almost split her britches (literally) she couldn’t wait for her next escapade with Stormy. I think Stormy was less than thrilled with this arrangement, wondering where all the “little” kids were that Wanda had told him he was going to meet at his new barn.
Stormy and Megan are showing together this summer for their second season as a couple. There’s absolutely nothing cuter than the sight of Megan coming into the barn early on a horse show morning, dressed to compete. I am usually already there, braiding Stormy, because oh no, you can’t braid him the night before—he scratches his braids out with his hind hoof. To see Megan with her sleepy eyes and freckles, her hair in braids with ribbons, her jods, garters and boots, is to have your womb ache for a female child. (Paging Dover, here’s your next cover model.) When Megan’s eyes find Stormy, her face lights up.
Once their show day is finished, you can find Megan and Stormy meandering around the show grounds looking for the best grass. Stormy looks more like Megan’s beloved dog, trailing behind her, amicably going wherever she wanders. The sight is all the more merry for the melodious non-stop chatter wafting from the pair. Megan is talking to Stormy. And Stormy is listening. We’re not really sure what they are talking about, but we can tell by the looks on their faces that, at turns, this conversation is serious, important and hilarious.
So close is this relationship between girl and pony, that Stormy misses Megan when she’s gone. Samantha sometimes rides him while Megan is away, but his usual zip and zeal is missing. The unknown factor—is it because his beloved is away? Once when Megan was out of town, Samantha rode Stormy for several days in a row. Upon Megan’s return to the barn, Samantha told Megan she had better go talk to Stormy because he had really missed her. About 20 minutes later, Megan returned, her hands trying to hold back the laughter that pealed out of the corners of her mouth. We asked her what was so funny. She looked at Samantha and said, “I talked to Stormy. He says he HATES you!” More giggles. Megan didn’t notice the rest of us howling with laughter. Samantha said, “Megan, you’re right!”
But Megan, we didn’t tell you, Stormy LOVES you.
The Mo Man doesn't have to share hotel rooms......Hmmmm.....
’Tis the season for “away” horse shows. You and your horse, on the road, at the show, footloose and fancy-free, no email, perhaps limited cell phone capability, no computers…bliss! At the end of the day, you put your horse to bed and return to the hotel room, which is …littered with sweaty horse show clothes, half-eaten food and paddock boot dirt. There’s not an inch of room on the sink counter or a clean towel to be found. Ah, roommates!
I had to share a room with my sister when we were young. I had a college roommate who let her boyfriend sleep in our room. One of the reasons I got married at 24 was so that I could pick my own roommate. I hate roommates. But roommates at horse shows are useful. Pairing up is an excellent way to cut costs, and we all know I’m in favor of that. But how to do it without ruining a friendship or losing your mind?
Read on……on the Chronicle of the Horse website
Question: A bunch of the girls at the barn are graduating from high school soon. One has mailed me a graduation announcement. Am I obligated to send her a gift? And if I give her a gift, shouldn’t I give the others a gift as well?
Answer: ‘Tis the season of graduations and weddings, and if you’re been invited to several, your joy may be somewhat tempered by the inherent gifting obligations that accompany these celebrations.
Read the rest of this story on The Chronicle of the Horse website…..
Samantha and Rachel celebrate StoneHaven's success at GMHA
We’re back from three days in Woodstock. Having never been to GMHA, I was excited to see the facility and grounds. Believe the hype. This place is gorgeous, and the facilities are lovely. Beautiful permanent stalls. Real bathrooms! Three rings. Wheelbarrows provided. Life is good.
The girl’s first horse show with her new horse, Mondavi, was most definitely a success. She started off in the modified low hunter division. It was something else to see this kid showing a horse in a 2’6” division. Her entire showing career to this point totaled about seven horse shows in the short stirrup division riding a pony.
Before we left town last Thursday, Samantha had a physical, her first in two years. She’s grown seven inches in two years. No wonder those ankles were swinging underneath that pony’s belly!
How long does it take 12 people to load eight horses into four trailers? Photo by Elizabeth Howell.
This morning we are on our way south to Woodstock, Vermont, for the Green Mountain Horse Show Association spring show. Fortunately, today is warm-ups only, because we’ve just barely left the barn, and we are already 90 minutes behind schedule.
Why are we late? Ah, that is the question. I’m sure it’s a scenario you’ve encountered before on the way to a horse show. How long does it take 12 people to load eight horses into four trailers? A lot longer than it should once you throw in some technical difficulties.
There was a last minute vehicle switcheroo. The trailer and truck parked in front of the barn, was, of course, the one with the glitch. Which meant that no one else could load and leave. The dually truck in question needed a hitch adapter, which of course was not in the truck. Another adapter was located, but it needed to be removed from one truck and placed on the other. Removing the adapter from truck A was the catch. It was stuck on there like white on rice.
As 10 of the 12 people pondered the situation, my husband asked for a hammer, lay down on the ground and started to pound away to remove the hitch adapter. In what he later called “an estrogen nightmare” the rest of us tried to get everyone else loaded and on the road. We are pulling a friend’s trailer in exchange for a ride in the trailer.
Read the rest of this post on The Chronicle of the Horse website.…….
Question: There’s a boarder at the barn who loves to offer unsolicited advice. Whether it’s about my horse—“Maybe you should try some calming supplements,” and “Is he always this crazy?” or my riding, “If I were you, I’d really starting working on getting him to bend more, try doing some 20-meter circles.” She won’t stop! It’s driving me crazy. This person has no more experience than I do. What can I say to make her stop?
Answer: Oh, the urge to give you some snarky comments to throw her way are strong, but…I….will…suppress…them. Some people are just built this way, feeling it is their purpose to help those around them, whether we want that help or not.
