Sunday, September 30, 2012

Oops, I did it again!

Disappeared, that is.

I woke up Monday half dead -- literally. Okay, maybe not literally but it felt like it. Freezing cold despite three blankets and a heating pad, sore throat, coughing, sneezing, yada yada. I managed to crawl into the car to drop it off that evening for its doctor's appointment the next day, but that was about all I did the whole week.

hubby's brother's dog lucy.
Friday, Hubby and I went up to NY for a wedding and stayed the night and most of the rest of Saturday at his parents' house. That's always a cluster fuck and it was no different this time. At least the wedding was fun. In general I'm not a fan of weddings nor of children and this wedding had lots of babies floating around. Fortunately, the baby at our table was the dopest baby that ever has lived. He didn't make a single sound the whole night, choosing instead to gaze around like a good fat-cheeked stoner. You're my type of baby, kid.

the pig dog.
Basically what I'm saying is that I haven't seen the hoss in an entire week. What. A. Travesty. So despite still feeling a little under the weather, Hubby and I trooped out to the barn this morning and I got in a so-so ride on Robert.

Fortunately for me, Bobby wasn't feeling half as fresh as he was last weekend and I was able to huff and puff around the arena for a good warm up on his part. My heavy breathing and constant sniffing was far from attractive though.

can't breathe...
We did some jumping.

Jumping over the xrail:

oi.

flop.
Some jumping over the gate:

such an outstanding rider.
Vertical to gate line:



Green vertical:


And then we were left with the oxer. It was 3'3 behind and 3' in front. In typical Carly fashion, I blew right by the ideal turning spot coming to a jump flush with the long side. Bobby blew through my hands, continued on our poorly planned left handed course, and rocketed over the jump. I took a peak as we shot forward and realized we were headed directly for the standards. Bobby was down with jumping anyways, but I was not down with a collision. I attempted a mid-air reroute and we didn't touch a thing, but holy bat shit crazy picture:

hey, george morris. how do you like them skillz?
After that EPICNESS, I gritted my teeth (or would have, had I been able to close my mouth and still breathe) and drilled that fucking oxer until we got it done. I found a good spot to turn in, found a good pace to come in at, and spent a half-dozen approaches trying to figure out my seat. Sit down? Yes, yes, all good. I'm not jumping ahead, but I am gripping with my knee and my lower leg in turn swings like a pendulum.

goood byeee, lower leg....
After one more mid-air yeehaw:


I was like, "Cancel this fucking plan." So I did this crazy half seat thing where I (prepare to be blown away) sat up and back a bit more and we went over no bigs:


It's a learning curve, folks. Although for me it seems more like a learning plunge through dangerous white water rapids where the only uphill peaks are when I go shooting out of the water for a split second before crashing back down and nearly drowning again.

Whoa.

So deep.

Anyways, the pony got stuffed with peppermints and had another arm-numbing curry (he preferred the cookies) before getting tucked back into his stall to wait for dinner.

Tomorrow, I'm going to hopefully pick up my car. I may or may not be arrested for assualt. We'll have to see how willing the garage is to work with me on the $300 extra they charged me for fixing something without my authorization. Oh, hellz no. Prepare to see the crazy blonde bitch emerge, Hawkins.

No comments:

Post a Comment

If you can't say anything nice, fuck off.