So on new year’s day, I had the dumbest/best idea, springing from one of my barn mates. She had taken her mini out and had him pull her around on her skis! I don’t have xc skis, but I do have downhill skis, so I figured…If she could do it, so can I! I will just get Ian to control Oats and I talked it over with Oats’ half leasor and she suggested I loop the longe line through his girth, and use that as a handle. So we did it!
Ian dug my skis out from the netherworld of our stairs storage (not an easy feat mind you!) the day after NYE (and we weren’t even that hungover, lucky us!!) and off we went to give it a try 🙂 And how did it go? Really well! At first…
We cruised around, Ian suggested he NOT ride Oats in the field but instead run him, which turned out to be a very smart suggestion, lol. We cruised around, my barn mate rode her horse and took pictures and video for me, and we had a blast!
Until… The last go-around where I said let’s do it one more time! And Oats thought…yeah one more time WHERE I GO BANANAS And he took off bucking and bolting, and I was like oh fuuuuck first he’s going to kick me, or Ian, but then we let go of the ropes and reins and he bolted straight up the hill…To my barn mate’s horse, who lost her shit and bolted through the gate to the barn yard. FML. So, I got dumped with my skis at the bottom of the effing hill, and had to begin the grim march up, wondering if Oats had murdered my barn mate and her horse… But everyone was ok! They had a bit of a rough ride through the gate, eek, but made it with all tack and persons intact. PHEW! So, that was the end of that little adventure, hahaha. But it was fun! So that counts I guess 🙂
I know on Saturday I was griping, mainly because my daytime lessons with Faith all seem to be a bit of a dud- she gets worked up, angsty, balky, etc. And then Oats has started losing his shit every.single.day…and ARGH. I hate horses!!
BUT Faith was a gem last night, a very good girl. We trotted a crossrail twice without stirrups- ok I tried to chicken out, hahah but the second time didn’t seem so jostly so ok! And then we trotted a few small fences and she was great. Got in crooked- fixed it. Sluggy off the ground? Add leg. It all worked out! That felt pretty darned good, and redemptive from Saturday.
Oats on the other hand… I know he’s bored of rehab and looking for trouble. Every day. A lot of trouble. ARGH. He has started having freakouts about the corners of the arena (newsflash- nothing changes. EVER. He has been in the arena for 5 months…) bolting backwards, slamming on the brakes, spooking at his reflection in the mirrors (not usually a problem), and spooking at me coughing, or blowing my nose. FUN FUN!
So, every ride I have to go out with the idea that rehab takes as long as it takes. He’s running backwards? Pause the watch, deal with it, and start the watch up again when he finally gets over it. Spooking and bolting backwards? Same deal. It is FREAKING EXHAUSTING to deal with every day. I decided to start adding to his trot work last night, to deal with some of his shenanigans. Very moderate- add 30 secs to his intermittent trot work on both sides for an extra minute total, and start with the intermittent trot instead of the continuous trot- leave the continuous for the second round. For some reason the continuous seems to twig his brain off even more? And I also added 30 secs/side for the continuous trot to round it out.
He felt a bit funny on the left, but I think that was because of his inconsistent trot/head carriage. Turns out spooking isn’t conducive to either?! Ha. So he does settle, and go along pretty nicely, but damn those first 20 minutes are pretty annoying and hard to manage. And may I remind you- EVERY SINGLE DAY. SIGH. I had to cancel his Friday rider, as she is quite novice, just getting back into it, and the last thing she needs is to go bolting backwards every 2 minutes…. 😦
I’ve been tempted to leave this one blank, or not blog, because the poison that is my nutjob family is starting to seep into my heart.
Sometimes family is who you choose, not who you are born with.
I received a very disturbing package in the mail yesterday from my mother, and it contained a number of articles (childhood cards I had made, photos of me and my sister as babies, and an insane 5-page double-sided letter from my mom) that made me seriously concerned for their mental health.
I’ve always felt content with my little ‘family’ unit.
Essentially it was about how I was breaking their heart by not ‘giving’ them grandchildren, and that I am going to die alone, sad and lonely, surrounded by strangers. Bonus points for bringing up my dead grandmother, whom I was very close to.
I see now that this isn’t my issue- it’s theirs. And it is concerning.