Another quick snapshot,

I don't feed Friday and Saturday nights or all of Sunday. So when we have a short day on Friday, I'm in bliss.

Yeah, yeah. I've got saddles to scrub, water buckets to fill, but all of that passes time so quickly. So now I'm going over the barn for anything I might have missed. Singing.

"I've been waitin' all week just to have a good time, so bring on those cowboys and their pick up lines." Every horse hangs their head over their stall doors, amusement and curiosity playing on their faces.

I kiss each whiskered noses as I go, still singing away. When I collapse into Clark (my camper), I can't help but think that a warmblood is far more reliable than a cowboy any day, and a nicker the most sincere endearment ever.

Read more...

A snapshot of my life:

It is the end of the second longest day I've had to work. Sweat makes my face slick and grimy. Saddle soap clings to my knuckles and between my fingers. I discard dreams of attractive waiters and finishing my grocery list. All I can focus on is the stall I'm cleaning.

I turn my wheelbarrow to the next stall, where some naughty horse has spread out every pile of poop. I spill some nasty words as I get to picking up each individual piece.

Midway through, almost done. I scoop up two pieces and turn to fling them into the wheelbarrow. And one leaps off my fork in protest.

I stop, staring at the lively piece of poop. Did I hallucinate this?

Then the frog hopped from the stall, obviously not impressed.

I almost died.

Read more...

Prelude to: Girl, Glitter, and One Giant Pasture

Now, I've been getting hate mail from some of you for not posting recently. You know who you are! It is NOT nice to text me each day...
"Still no update."

So what have I been up to, you ask? Where has the oh-so elusive Girl gone?
Walking.
Miles and miles and MILES of walking.

Let me tell you my personal work day horror story..

Mondays are the Boss Mare's day off. You cannot find her dragging the arenas or perching on her stool. You can't even find her if you follow the resident barn Jack Russell (usually a surefire indicator that the Boss is near). She leaves a list on the blackboard of things for me to do and heads into town.

Last Monday was not any different. She wrote a short to-do list - feed, fill water tanks, lunge all our working horses. I finished early and curled up to nap the afternoon away.
It was perfect.
I'm telling you.. I was over the moon about this day and how wonderful it had turned out.

[part 2 coming soon.. must sleep or not survive tomorrow! it is a Monday, afterall...]

Read more...

Horse Goes To Daycare

Now, I will write a HUGE post on why I did not post Monday (and believe me, it'll be worth reading...) But right now I don't want to jinx my evening feeding by recanting that horrible (and apparently hilarious) tale...

Today was Horse's first day out with her "herd", two quiet older horses. Once I got the Boss Mare up on her first horse of the day, I caught my baby and started the long trek to her new home. She placed her nose on my elbow the entire way, a worried expression on her sweet face. "No biting." I reminded, but she didn't even try.

Horse has been up in the closest paddock, by herself. She nickers when I pass, walks with me on the other side of the tape. I am her herd. She is my Horse..
Needless to say, I was not thrilled about turning her out, but I knew it had to happen.

We got to the gate. She blew nervous air on my skin.
I hoped she would not get hurt or picked on or ignored.
I hoped she wouldn't be "that weird kid" or stupid.
I let her go.

She wandered around for a while, sniffing clumps of grass and eyeing the pond. The other horses didn't seem to notice her. When all seemed okay, I turned and headed back to the barn. I made it about a quarter of a way before she noticed. She whinnied.

Now at this point, you are supposed to not turn back because that makes it harder on you and your baby, but I couldn't help it. I stopped and glanced back, and she whinnied again, hanging her head over the gate. She pushed against the metal. My heart cracked a little.

She whinnied again when I was passing her old paddock and once more when I went into the barn. When I went back out to catch her to ride, she met me at the gate, but she didn't seem upset.

"Did you have fun at daycare?" I asked. She nipped my fingers.
I guess so.

Read more...

This will be short and sweet due to the fact I am having to type it out on my cell phone.
Not happy.

Today was a show day, and I'm sleepy now.. Tomorrow is the Boss Mare's day off and my day to lunge all of our projects. Should be a nice and quiet day.

Hopefully the internet will be back up soon, but for now I'm going to dream about straight guys who ride and warmbloods with mega-suspension... And non-wiggle-inducing chocolate!

Sleep well, friends.
Girl

Read more...

Horse and Girl Go to Flight School!

It's my day off here at More Inside Leg Stables.. I'm proud to say that Clark the camper is all cleaned. He sports a fresh baked batch of cornbread on his counter, red beans and rice tucked into his fridge.

I thought I had lost a ton of weight, and then I realized I had just lost feeling in my thighs. All feeling has returned now. I'll admit it...
I'm a little bummed.

But enough about me, my sweet little girl has become a TEENAGER. Let's face it, three year old horses are about like fifteen year old humans. She's just broke out of her training bra, is hot to trot, believes she knows it all, and resists any kind of authority. I'm like..
PAUSE, pony. I'm the teenager! I'm supposed to be the irrational one! But alas, our days are filled with:
"Biting is NOT nice."
"QUIT IT."
"(insert not nice words), (insert not nice words) !!" (Those of you with teenagers understand..)

I rode her for the first time on Thursday, just a little after I lunged her. She was good, but she might have still been a little dizzy from doing spiral-ins on the lunge. (for you horsey people, GREAT exercise for any level of pony. Gets balance/brain going. I love it!)

Then Friday rolled around.. And Horse and I went head-to-head for the turn-on-the-forehand. For sake of history, call it our Cold War... Had someone actually dropped a bomb.

"Okay, slow her down. Ask her to move off your inside leg.." Boss Mare called. "Tell her to WAIT for you."

Horse blatantly ignored me. She tucked her sweet little nose back and breezed right on. Now, all of you riders out there are probably quivering in your boots because this is a GIANT no-no in the dressage world. For non-horsey people, this is the equivalent of your kid agreeing with you, and then just doing what they want anyway. (Kids, this is very effective if you can make it where your parents don't know you did it... Just saying!)

So, I took her rump over to the wall where she can't walk off as easily and asked again. Now she flat out resisted, wringing her tail as if I'd just asked her to jump the Empire State building. "It's a good thing you're young." Boss Mare said in the midst of giving me several (AKA 100) instructions.

Horse, however, objected worst when my tactics got more effective. I felt her coil up beneath me, and with the wall in front and any sideways or backwards motion blocked, she did what any good military would do.

She went for the skies.
Her front legs reached as if to climb the wall. I brought my right rein to the side, pulling her back from sky to earth. Boss Mare had already uncurled herself from her seat and strode across the ring with this determined glint in her eyes that would make the worst convict pause. I fought my anger down to finish with a decent ride. (no fear, surprisingly. I suppose I'll develop that emotion at 20 years with the rest of my brain..)

"We're both going to be better people because of her." Boss Mare said later, as Horse stood in the cross ties with a rebellious expression still hidden under several layers of sweat.

Read more...

Just Smack Her If She's Naughty!

Okay, okay.. I know.
I'm a bad blogger, and I owe you guys 2 extra blogs.
.... And you will get them.. Tomorrow! I promise.

Anyway, today I'd like to give you a little overview of the other characters in Horse and my story. Tomorrow I'll catch up on my life, but you'd be as lost as all get out (Hear that Southern twang!) if you didn't know the ponies and people also involved.

So, of course, there's the..

Boss Mare :: AKA tiny but dangerous trainer. Boss Mare runs the show, attracts large horses and Jack Russels, and reminds a certain teenager to use her brain. She has a voice that can be heard from miles away, and despite this, someone purchased her a microphone to give lessons through... I've yet to understand the logic.

The Queen :: Not to be confused with the Boss Mare, who is actual just one of her tiny minions (I would be the other..). The Queen is 17.something hands high and massive. She also is the highest trained horse in the barn and knows it. Sugar and cookies are both used to win her affections, and while not obnoxious, she does have an "are you not blessed to be in my presence?" air. So far, we are friends.

The Princess:: Also 17+ hands, she is the sweetest, MESSIEST horse. She's beautiful and cuddly and all that jazz, but like any good princess, she cannot, will not, positively won't keep her bell boots on. Duct tape will only prolong time until she loses them, and I can't help but wonder if she's not a little disappointed when I come hiking over to sling another one on. Like, dang! When will her prince come?

Bubba :: The Princess's full brother, freshly turning three. He's kind of gangly, at 17+ hands too. Do you see the pattern?? He and I have a morning scratch and cuddle fest. I figure these two are like yoga instructors.. Very zen and at peace with the world, but can make their bodies do some crazy stuff.

Anyway, I must sleep. This is the first night the barn cat hasn't sat outside of my door and meowed!!!

-- Girl

Read more...

Not Enough Impulsion and Other Dressage Mishaps

Hey,

So today was my first full day as a working student.. Due to a special farrier visit and a slight miscommunication, I worked 7am to 730pm with a 30-40 minute lunch break.

I can't feel my feet. I spent twenty minutes sitting there, staring at my computer, and contemplating dinner. Did I have enough energy to eat even? Cook?? You must be joking. Luckily, I found it in me to zap some instant mashed potatoes, corn, and fake fried chicken(vegan, but so good)... Gone are my visions of perfectly balanced meals.

Horse decided to break out her holy terror side. Instead of riding, we got a lunge lesson. I think I have, "Stop moving! Stop going with her! Make your own circle!!!!" ingrained into my brain. She also discovered the two minis in the pasture next to her and spent all morning either squealing at them or whinnying for real horses.

My other equine charge is the complete opposite.. So quiet, so sensible. Glitter reminds me so much of my first horse (Horse's mother. Who proves that sanity is NOT inherited), but she doesn't have that sparkle that Horse has..

Anyway, enough of my rambling! I can barely think full sentences, so it's off a good dose of ibuprofen and sleep!

Sorely yours,
Girl

Read more...

Enter at A.

Hey,

Let's suppose for a moment your name is Girl. Okay?

And you've just embarked on your own for the first time. Well, not true.. You do have your (slightly un)trusty steed by your side, but aside from her, you are alone.

It's sounds.. FANTASTIC!
Until..
Your showerhead breaks off.

Yes, welcome to my life. My name is Girl, and my trusty steed is Horse. I guess we make a good pair (You're supposed to group together the Young and Brash with the Young and Dangerous, right???) Anyway, today we moved from Backyard Barn to More Inside Leg Stables, where I will be feeding/mowing/cleaning/riding and Horse will be... Eating. Isn't that how it always goes?

Anyway, I crawled into Clark (the camper), shedding my windpants for some shorts and diving for the bed. Not that I was super tired, but
moving+college finals week+moving pony= one tired, stressed out kid.
The ability to chill is a highly underrated thing.

However, there was one issue with chill-age.. My legs clung together as if I sweated glue, and every time I moved, I felt my skin pulling apart. My chill-age died, and I rolled out bed and headed for the shower.

Now, for those of you who have never had the grace to shower in a camper, let me explain some things. Grab a large pizza box and stand on it. I don't care how "roomy" the shower looks, that is how much space you will have. Secondly, most campers come with a crappy little showerhead. I was kinda bummed about this, but lo and behold..

I turned on my shower and took down the showerhead and.. It broke. So I'm standing in the pizza box-sized shower as the newly freed hose is spraying the ceiling and the parts of the showerhead are clattering onto the floor.

Needless to say, it turned into a truck-stop shower, and tomorrow promises to test the true healing powers of duct tape...

Until next time,
Girl

Read more...