Mouthy Mondays and Holidays

Hey guys,

I disappeared, I'm back, I have lots to tell you about so this should be a good week!

The kidlette has been nailed by the swine flu. She's 18, asthmatic and had mono within the last year. So needless to say she's high risk.

It's amazing how fast these "I'm grown so let me fly" kids come zipping back to the nest when the guano hits the fan.

The worst is over, which is a good thing.

We've had astounding amounts of snow and more to come here in Colorado. I took a few photos from the hood yesterday. No horses, but incredible silence, beauty and fun with my dogs and good friend Kathy. So I thought I would share anyway.

Meet my dogs. Dinah, the Corgi/Jack Russel and Charlie, the Rat Terrier. Don't mock them because they wear clothes. These two are a crackerjack vermin removing team. They have spent their lives single mindedly wiping out large populations of mice, rats, voles, rabbits, prairie dogs and pigeons at every ranch I've worked at and our backyard. So don't piss them off.


This is the Historical Rockledge Ranch seen from a ridge in Garden of the Gods Park. Yes, I wish I lived there too.



I can feel the pressure of the building storm in this one. I love my back yard.



Here's our Mouthy Monday Post.....The horseless nut wrote about getting back into the groove of riding again after a long break from school.

http://horselessnut.blogspot.com/


The last two weeks have been...interesting.

I'm in my hometown for two weeks, working for my father's company to earn some extra cash, before beginning my work term this fall.

My main focus has been on relaxing. Meaning no fights with my uber stubborn gelding, Oliver, in fact, I've avoided him all together.

I went to my old instructor's barn (We'll call her S), where my mother boards her two horses, a twenty year old AQHA pleasure mare, Classic, and her four year old filly, Scarlett.

My plan had been to saddle up Classic and take a nice little meander around the arena, I haven't ridden in a good six months, and I knew that if I tried anymore than that, I'd be a little - scratch that - extremely, sore the next day.

So we did just that, my mother and I tacked up the shaggy brown mare and led her out into the indoor arena where S and her daughter were working two horses. I wasn't concerned about them, I knew they would simply avoid me, whooshing by at a quick lope while Classic and I jogged along the rail, totally immersed in their training.That was all well and good, Classic wasn't spooky, although I'd heard she had become so in her old age, I actually had the feeling she was babysitting me.

I was working on keeping good posture, but I could feel my thighs and calves starting to protest already. I pulled up and watched S and her daughter work, trying to see the subtle cues I knew they were giving, it reminded me of what I've been reading about on the Mugwump Chronicles lately.

We all had a good chat for a bit, S's daughter is graduating this year at my old high school, so we swapped teacher tails. Then I dismounted (not as gracefully as I'd hoped), and we returned to the barn.After unsaddling Classic and putting her away, I went to the viewing room to watch S work Scarlett.

My mother (though she'll never admit it) is a bit nervous around horses, so while she gets on great with steady old Classic, she hasn't ridden Scarlett much, leaving the bulk of her training to S.

She started out free lunging the little blaze-faced chestnut under saddle, Scarlett screeching around the arena at top speed, finally dropping to a jog and then turning to face S, who approached her, mounted, and started to work.

This was great for me because I'd been Scarlett's care giver/trainer until she turned two, but I'd never seen her ridden before. After about ten minutes, S pointed at me and gestured for me to enter the arena.

I turned to my mother."She's going to make me ride isn't she?"Sure enough, I heaved open the big sliding door."Get over here and ride this filly"My first reaction was "Noooo". Sure I used to ride babies all of the time, I broke Oliver from the ground up, and rode his younger sister Georgie after S had put thirty days on her, but that was over two years ago, I was out of shape, hadn't ridden in six months, and now S wanted me to get on a filly who ten minutes ago had been tearing around the arena like a bat out of hell.

"Get on this horse or I'm going to come over there and kick you, you raised her, don't you want to see how she goes?" I was sure nothing would happen, but if something did happen, I was also sure that I wouldn't be able to ride it out. So, feeling apprehensive, I strode over and climbed carefully up.

S fitted me with some spurs, and away we went. My first observation was how narrow she was, compared to her mother, who at this stage in her life had the width of a round bale. We started out slowly, just walking around while I got used to her and got an idea of what 'buttons' she had on her. She was very sensitive, and just a tad lazy, but soon we were jogging around, doing transitions, and lateral work. She broke at the poll with just the slightest urging, and moved off my leg easily.

My only qualm was the she was very 'wobbly' and unwilling to move off in a straight line without being 'told' where to go constantly by her rider. The result was I felt I needed to "hold" her together with my hands and legs. I didn't bother trying to lope, my legs were already jello and didn't feel like I could support her the way she needed.

I pulled up to where S, her son, and my mother had all been watching and chatting, and swung down. We continued to talk a bit, Scarlett standing quietly by my side, sighing occasionally, eventually we made our way back to the barn for the second time that night.After putting Scarlett up, in a the stall that shared a wall with her mother's, I wandered down the aisle of the old, but clean barn, peeking in at the various horses S had in for training, the broodmares, and the never ending line of two and three year olds from previous breeding seasons (she has since gelded her stallions and ceasing breeding - there's just no market for it in my area).

I stopped to scratch the ears of some of the horses I recognized, and avoided those I didn't. It was good to be back in a place where horses are the center of attention, and these horses where miles ahead quality-wise of what I was used to. As we headed into the crisp night air and back to the car, I made a mental note to remember this lovely, tired, content feeling.

I want to come back, next time I'm home, I thought.

I knew that it probably wouldn't happen for another long while, with only weekends to come home, and about ten different families to visit, a trip to the barn is almost impossible to schedule. I barely get to see my own horse, let alone ride him, if I skipped a visit to him to come to S's barn...well that would be nothing short of cheating.

But still, that was great, just great. It's safe to say, I've got The Bug again.I did end up riding Oliver this week too, but that's another adventure for another post.