I could not stop getting bashed, burned, poked, or otherwise maimed over the weekend.
It started when I went to get Hubby's wallet out of his truck while we were signing the lease for our new house (that might be a post in and of itself, but we did end up with a place to move both ourselves and the hoss on Saturday), and it was horribly, atrociously, I-hate-New-York-ingly windy. I leaned into the truck and the door slammed closed, pinning my right knee between it and the door frame so hard I instantly dropped to the ground it hurt so fucking bad.
Sunday morning we went to the barn to finally get some outdoor riding shots. As I lifted my saddle onto Bobby's back, the girth that I usually secure in the straps on my saddle cover slid off and hit me buckles-first directly in the face. That wasn't much fun either.
|warm up jump|
Back at home, I got a face full of blowing, burning cinders as we got rid of a bunch of pallets Hubby had laying around. As I was helping bring them over to the fire, I tripped and rolled my ankle.
And that night, while working on a Bobby costume, I came within a millimeter of sewing my finger into a lime green tulle skirt. At that point I just waved the Fuck It Flag and went to bed.
|pig dogs love modeling outfits.|
So there's basically a whole post of me whining about being an unlucky idiot this weekend. Now for some quick pony stuff!
|jumping the edge of the coop because bobby does what bobby wants|
Our laid back jump school Sunday was a blast. Bobby was forward and light right from the get go, and he coasted around with a seriously fabulous canter. We kept the forward momentum over the cross rail and coop for warm up without ever getting rude or stupid.
Well. Only once getting stupid anyway. Bobby had just jumped the coop quietly out of stride, and as we came back around, Sarah called out that he looked so calm. Bobby took Great Offense to this. As soon as she said it, he burst forward and charged the coop because HE IS NOT A CALM HORSE, HE IS A RACEHORSE.
And then we came around again and he was fine. Point proven, Bobby. We'll never make that mistake again.
After warming up, we did a small one stride vertical (2'3") to oxer (2'6") line. I couldn't figure out the vertical to save my life, but for once I actually rode like a grown up and instantly upon landing moved on to make sure we nailed the oxer.
|recovered and rocking|
Bobby didn't really care either way. He was locked onto that oxer the second we turned in for the line. So happy to have his Good Horse brain back. It was definitely missing for awhile there.
We finished up playing over the cross rail a few times while marveling at Bobby's levitation skills.
|magical floating horse|
We didn't do much for the ride, but I was really happy with both of us. Bobby stayed chill and obedient, and so did my lower leg. My knee might hang six inches over the flap, but this saddle has really allowed me to put my leg where I want it and keep it there. I'm sure being religious about no stirrup work has helped as well.
Today Sarah and I played dress up and went for a bareback trail ride with our horses bedecked in dinosaur/alligator masks.
|a relatively common sight at most barns.|
|what's common at our barn when i'm around.|
I'll share the costume pictures later this week. They turned out pretty amazing.
We attempted to go for a long trail ride, but Bobby got to the base of a hill and his brain couldn't decide whether to be good and walk up it, or bad and run up it. So instead it just exploded and he got stuck.
He couldn't move because he was broken. As Sarah so aptly put it, "And this is why dinosaurs went extinct."
Eventually he decompressed enough that we were able to turn around and walk back to the barn. So speshul, Bobby.
|bobby photo bomb|