Always learning

Am I ever glad I actually forced myself to get to the barn today. After our ride yesterday, the thought crossed my mind to actually never see my horse again.

Ever.

Because he is an asshole and I hate him.

Yesterday we had our first New York episode of "Bobby loses his shit completely for no fucking reason and refuses to get it back because he's too busy throwing himself into walls and any inanimate object he can find." Although to be fair, we've been up here for about a month now. I guess we were overdue.

For the first time in a good long while, he actually almost dumped me. If he hadn't immediately gone from prop/fling yourself sideways to half-rear/throw your head in your rider's face, I wouldn't have been able to catch myself on his neck and instead would have gone tumbling right over his shoulder.

Thanks, Bobby. You're such a compassionate horse, always looking out for the person sitting on your back.

ricky was sure i was going to try to murder doodle in his sleep
when i walked in the paddock, so he had to go over and guard him.

Needless to say, I wasn't in much of a mood to go visit with the fucker today. But we do have a show Sunday (oh god, we're all going to die...), and I want to jump him every day between today and then. My hope is that he might actually be a little tired by the time Sunday rolls around, and we won't actually die.

Let's be honest though. The chances are high of me someone ending up curled in the fetal position by the time this is over.

Anyway, I did make it to the barn this afternoon and got my jump school in. And Bobby was actually quite alright. He didn't seem to hold a grudge from the day before--although what grudge he would have been holding, I don't know, as I certainly wasn't the one slamming my leg into the wall repeatedly. It's okay, Bobby. Who needs shin bones anyway?

I had a single 3' vertical set up on the diagonal so that I could take it off the right lead either from a short distance off the wall or a long approach. I also set up a 3' line with a flower box jump and a picket fence that could ride in a very forward 4, a settled 5, or a collected 6. Three guesses what we usually ended up getting...

My goal though was to regulate Bobby's stride between the line and get the distance I wanted. The first hundred several few times, I had no say in the matter. Bobby was just like, "Wheeeee! Best four strides of my life!" But I found that if I stuffed his ass into the first jump, he'd actually listen to me upon landing and we were able to hit both the five and the six.

From there, I worked on getting the distance to the first fence right while still having control on landing and keeping it on the approach to the second jump. Very fucking tricky, and we worked hard to get it right while breaking up the repetitions with the diagonal jump both on its own and made into a bending line with the gate a few times.

snorkeling in mud puddles.

As we were finishing up, the woman that does stalls, boards several horses there, and who has competed in hunters along with her daughter and granddaughter, stopped by the ring to watch us go. We did three jumps so-so, and she asked if I wouldn't mind if she gave me some input since I'd told her we were gearing up for our first hunter show. Obviously I was like, "Tell me ALL the things! Please, please, please!"

She told me that our canter coming into the corner and out of the corner was perfect, but as soon as we saw the fence, I drove Bobby with my seat and interrupted our rhythm. "The number one thing they're looking for is consistency in pace, so if you focus on nothing else, focus on keeping the canter the same."

Certainly not a new insight, but sometimes hearing it in a new way sticks in your head. So we came around again, I made sure to remind myself to not move a single fucking muscle in my stupid fucking body, aaaanddd.....

Bobby was golden. Not so golden on landing and needed a strong ride to not go blasting off for the four instead of the five, but the first fence was miles better than the times before.

the bird killer stalking innocent geese.

Things to chant in my head this weekend:

• Don't move.
• Big release no matter what.
• Don't move.
• Stop picking.
• Stop pulling.
• Stop driving.
• Stop moving.

Things Bobby needs to chant in his head this weekend:

• Don't be an asshole.
• .....no, I guess that's about it.

WW: New Tack Trunk

dramatic posing with early birthday present

i have a lot of shit. A LOT of shit.

but i am a master of organizing it

and there's room for even MORE shit!

blogger wants this to be upside down. inside that box? contained first aid shit.
shit gets messy? box it up!

A Change of Scenery

Sir Robert is no worse for wear after the first outing of the season. He spent Sunday frolicking around in the fresh mud and getting stuffed with treats when we stopped by to drop off my tack trunk.

hubby: he looks like some sort of mythical creature in that fly mask.
#unicornstatus

Monday we started work for our next venture: hunter land.

My one and only goal this year is to improve my show jumping rounds. As was evident over the weekend, this is still the number one goal for good reason. I'd already planned on attending a hunter show this Sunday to get in a few jumping rounds off property, but as I was driving home Saturday, I started thinking about just how much eventing means to me.

And the answer was....maybe not as much as it used to.

it helps when your horse looks adorable in his hunter outfit.
(okay, so it's bobby. you have to use your imagination a little bit to see the cuteness.)

I already have an entry sent in for a horse trial in June, but as I was looking at my show budget, it was between sending in another HT entry or saving that money for any local h/j shows that come up. The decision was easy. I had zero desire to send in the HT entry.

It's hard for me to not be good at what I do. Constantly struggling is not fun for me. I'm all about the journey and yada yada, but one failure after another--especially when the failures only seem to come when I'm paying people to watch me do them--kicks my ego in the ass something fierce.

Now I'm thinking, "Just how bad can hunter land really be?"

"really bad. being sane around an entire course is hard."

I'm not saying I'm permanently making any switch. I've competed in exactly one hunter show my entire life, and it wasn't with Robert. I may hate it enough that paying people to watch us commit one epic failure after another in the stadium round of an event seems like the best idea ever. I may decided to put Bobby's skill on the flat to the forefront and show straight dressage.

It's hard to think of giving up cross country. Bobby really is a beast in that phase, and it's without a doubt his favorite thing to do.

For now though, that's where I'm casually leaning. Easy courses in a nicely manicured ring sound fucking dreamy right about now.

plus i got to buy MOAR HORSE STUFF!

I've pestered Lauren to no end with questions already, and she basically dressed both Bobby and I for our debut along with walking me through the entire check in process, so now I get to put to the blogosphere everything else that's confused me thus far.

• What is the judge looking for in a courtesy circle? Is it always at the canter? If it's at the beginning of the course, do I pick up the canter from the walk or the trot?
• Can I wear spurs on the flat? Will that count against me? It's easier for me to focus Bobby and subtly push him into my outside rein with a little nudge from my spur. Otherwise I have to get obnoxious/busy with my leg.
• How late is too late to get a change after the jump? Or, I guess, just how quickly do I need to get the change? I can usually get it on landing, but that's assuming I'm focused enough to ask him to land correctly.
• Let's just go ahead an assume Bobby is going to be the fastest horse in the flat class. What are the etiquette rules for zooming past people?
• Any riding position tips for both over fences and on the flat? Anything specific a judge might be looking for?

Urgh, it always seems like I can think of more when I'm riding. Feel free to dole out any advice you think is pertinent. And if any of you are randomly hanging out at Cornell this weekend, come hold my hand through this perilous time be my friend!

Rolelu* Stables CT - N

*Pronounced "Raleigh-lu" for those curious.

Saturday: We came. We saw. We didn't wreck the trailer.

the veteran show horse no longer paws himself a hole to china when left unattended.
very proud of how much this dude has grown up over the years.

I'd call the first show of the year a total success while giving myself major pats on the back for doing everything completely by myself. Well, except hooking the trailer up. I borrowed the BO for a second to lend me some literal man power to yank my trailer the half an inch over it needed to be to line up to my hitch so I didn't have to attempt to back up to it again.

But everything else? To all the women who independent, throw your hands up at me!

No, but don't actually because you're too busy driving your own rig.

"lamest joke ever. now feed me."

We got to the show with a little over an hour to spare. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to check in, scope out the facilities, and get myself and Robert settled in without having to feel rushed. Once I got my little corner set up with chair, cooler, and book, I let Bobby graze for a good twenty minutes or so before slowly getting my tack around for dressage.

We warmed up in the indoor where Bobby started out staring at everything. He'd almost fall over himself he'd whip his head around so much to see what was going on. Once we got trotting though, he settled into a groove, and we finished our warm up with some really good canter work.

I took him out to the little grassy area overlooking the dressage ring and walked around to let him have a look at where he was. Another rider was supposed to go before me, but she said she wasn't feeling ready enough to go in, so I went down to ask the judge if Bobby and I could switch places with her. The judge was totally fine with it and we were able to head right in.

the wonderful show secretary got some dressage pictures
of us, so that's what you're going to get to fill this post.

Bobby still felt pretty distracted coming down center line for the first time, giving the flowers along the letters several hairy looks, but once we made the first turn, he got down to business and put in a very workman-like test.

His free walk wasn't there--no jigging or being rude, he was just too busy looking around to do any real stretching. We got a well deserved 6 on that, but that was our lowest score of the day.

His canter felt super, super good both directions. I felt him anticipate a little bit as we came across the diagonal in trot since we've been practicing our First tests lately, but he didn't make a move to actually go for it which I was grateful for.

His final turn down the center line almost went to shit. I felt him tense like he wanted to break to canter again so I gave him a hard half halt--a little too hard as he then almost came back to the walk, but I was on him quickly enough that he just lost the rhythm for a second. His halt was square as he's a boss at that, but I didn't close my left leg and he shifted his haunches just a bit that way.

Still, the judge's comments were very flattering. She told me it was "a lovely test to watch" and that it looked like we were "on a track". She asked if I had anyone videoing, and when I told here I was there by myself, she said that it would have been worth paying someone to video for me.

Dressage judges seriously love Bobby. I'm not complaining, but sometimes I'm kind of like, "What are you possibly seeing that I'm not?!" We got 8s on our collective marks with the comment "Exceptional". First time for everything.

sit the fuck up, carly. i mean, really.

We ended up with a 26.75 which satisfied my goal to score under 30. With the work he's been putting in at home, there was no reason he shouldn't have achieved that.

We had an hour between dressage and stadium. After getting Bobby sponged off and settled back in, I went to walk the course. It was in one of the farm's paddocks. There was quite a bit of terrain--nothing really serious, but enough to factor in. Every division started off with two big cross rails, and then there was one more X on course, an oxer to finish on, and everything else was verticals. It seemed deceptively easy, but it actually didn't get my nerves going at all, so that was definitely a plus.

I got on with fifteen minutes to spare since I thought the jumps looked so inviting and easy. I walked around warm up while the ground crew set the jumps to Novice height, and then went right in from there. Again, with the X's to start, I wasn't really too concerned and the jumps in warm up were still set at Intro height.

We picked up what I felt was a pretty good canter and turned in to the first line. Immediately we went into default WE FUCKING SUCK AT THIS mode. Bobby sucked back then charged the last couple strides, jumping flat, fast, and over his shoulder. On landing, he rooted down and I did nothing to get him balanced again.

Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over.

We jumped clear because we pretty much always jump clear, but FUCK. We've both been doing so much better at home that I was seriously disappointed.

I'd last minute signed up to do another round at Training height, but I asked if I could just go right back in and do the Novice course again. They were totally okay with that (and probably a little relieved). I trotted in to the first jump just for peace of mind, and made myself think a little quicker and react a little faster after each jump. It wasn't perfect, but it was still miles better than round one.

Afterwards, the owner of the farm who was helping set fences came over and was basically like, "That's all on you. You can't maintain a consistent pace. You need to do this, this, and this." I was like, "I KNOW."

He didn't do it to be mean or anything of course, but it did annoy me a little bit. I guess what annoyed me was more that we're so much fucking better at home and then we come to a show and look like fucking jagaloons.

It's frustrating when everyone assumes you're on this green, inexperienced horse. It's a nice excuse, but it's not the truth anymore. We just can't get it together in the show ring. And I'm fully sticking to my guns when I say "we". Most of it's me, but come on, Bobby. You've got to give a little in return, bro.

givin' a little luvin

Regardless, we came home with two blue ribbons, and I met a COTHer who was parked next to me and was able to give me some leads on trainers in the Geneseo area. We're entered in the June 7th HT at GVRDC, and while I almost wish I hadn't bothered renewing my USEA membership, Area I doesn't seem to know what unrecognized horse trials are so I have limited options. Now I just have to sneak in as many off property jumping rounds as I can.

I will defeat you, show jumping demons!

ears up because he was watching an episode of "when shipping boots attack"
a couple trailers down. 

Let's just make excuses

I'm a little bit fanatical about the week leading up to a show. I plan well in advance what I'm going to do each day, what day Bobby gets off, and how long each ride is going to last.

Monday: Jump school. Short, sweet, totally perfect.

Tuesday: Dressage school. Lots of work on transitions and lateral work.

Wednesday: Dressage school. Run through of dressage test. Trail ride after.

Thursday: Day off.

Friday: Jump school. Bending lines, big oxer, single verticals with long approaches.

Saturday: Show!

"but i don't wanna go to work!"

Monday through Thursday? We were mint. All went according to plan.

I set up a 3' swedish oxer with a wide spread, a 3'3" vertical you could do alone or bend it to a 3' vertical that could also be done alone. It was stupid hot out, so I left it like that instead of dragging more standards and poles out from the indoor.

Bobby was great to warm up. He stepped right into his newfound show jumping canter and after a couple laps each way with some circles thrown in, I turned him in to the 3'3" vertical. He tapped the top pole out, but it was a big first fence and he might have underestimated the height a little.

"where are the cookies?"

I ignored that and came around to do the vertical on the diagonal, and then around to the oxer. He jumped both fine--maybe a little quick and therefor over his shoulder on the vertical, but not too bad.

I got off to put the dropped pole back up and we came right back around to it. I gave a smack on the shoulder to tell him to lift his feet up, and we didn't have a problem with that one again. However, after that, he pretty much gave me the finger and did his own Bobby thing.

He wasn't horrible, he just wasn't really listening as well as he could have been.

Me: Wait, wait, wait....

Bobby: Waiting, waiting...let's do this thing already!

Me: Turn in here. Bobby! HELLO. TURN IN HERE.

Bobby: Yeah, yeah. I'm fucking turning already. Quick! To the jump!

Me: Re-balance before we get to the next jump. Bobby. Bobby? We're practically at the next jump and you have yet to acknowledge me!

Bobby: And? Let's go jump this! Hurry!

bobby's fucking mantra.

He knocked the oxer down twice. He didn't crash through it, or really even get to that bad of a spot, he just didn't seem to have a care in the world about whether he hit the fence or not.

So here's where my excuses start rolling in:

• It was hot outside. I don't do well in hot weather, and I probably wasn't riding quite as proactively or as strongly as I could have been. 
• I put his full set of Woof boots on to see how he rode in them. Bobby is a notorious abuser of boots when jumping. He takes full advantage of their protection and rubs his little leggies over everything. That's why I pretty much never use them when I jump. But I want him to wear them for cross country (purely for aesthetics), and we almost always go right to xc from stadium so he's got to learn to pick his fucking feet up. Grid work is on the docket.
• Probably one too many days apart from the last jump school. I should have jumped him long and hard Thursday and given him today off instead.

I think it was a good preview of what's to come tomorrow, for better or for worse. I'm already thinking I might have to bit him up at shows once his adrenaline starts pumping. Overall though, I managed to stay pretty relaxed throughout, kept thinking to the next fence (even if my horse wasn't), and made sure I released no matter what the approach was like.

Plus, even with Bobby being a little rude, my position still felt solid and I was totally confident in my eye. Those are always good things to bring forward to a show!

We ride tomorrow at 10:42, 11:45, and 12:15 which means we should miss the thunderstorms that are supposed to roll in sometime in the afternoon. Fingers crossed anyway!

as promised.

Also, some foolish friends encouraged me to join instagram so now you can find us at @poorwomanshowing (is that how it's done?). I will overload you with puppy and pony pictures, be warned!

Costume Creations: Native American War Horse

I did this "costume" back in the very beginning of April, but I felt like I was kind of inundating the blog with Bobby costumes so I never got around to posting it. It worked it just fine though as Bobby has today off, and now I have the perfect filler post.

I did my research for this one; I didn't want to just paint a bunch of silly symbols on my horse and inevitably insult someone. I bought a six pack of washable paint at Michael's and a package of spongy paint brushes at the dollar store. Both were a big fat fucking fail.

The paint brushes were essentially useless. What little paint that didn't get immediately absorbed by them just got smeared when I tried to apply it to Bobby. I ended up dumping big globs onto a piece of paper and hand painting it on. This was particularly fun when the shavings guy walked in to leave a payment slip and I was crouched in front of my horse with blue paint dripping down my arm.

Don't judge me, shavings guy. Just write it off as Crazy Horse Girl behavior and move along.

I took Bobby up to the outdoor for the photo shoot prepared with a longe whip, knowing full well my horse doesn't really do the at liberty frolic most freed Thoroughbreds participate in. I ran around almost as much as he did, and he still managed to get away with trotting most of the time.

Here's a rundown of what Bobby ended up decked out in to make him the most bad ass war horse around:

Green paint is a symbol of endurance and healing power, and painting the circles around the horse's eyes in green is thought to improve vision.

(i forgot to wash these off for days and kept thinking my horse was bleeding whenever i saw him)

Red paint symbolizes all the beast mode attributes: war, strength, energy, and power. Hand prints on the horse's chest meant your horse is the ultimate bad ass and knocked down an enemy in battle.

Blue paint is for wisdom and confidence (one of those things Bobby is lacking, and I'll let you guys guess which it is...). The lightning arrow--which that obviously is--is a sign of swiftness. Fastest racehorse ever? He needs ALL the lightning arrows!

A left hand print on the horse's right hip is the highest honor. It meant the horse brought its rider back from a dangerous mission.

These are clearly hoof prints painted in black for fucking victory. Every picture I saw had them painted like this so leave my artistic skills alone. Each hoof print is for an animal taken in a raid. Bobby got three because he had three pasture mates.

Did I take them in a raid?

Basically.

White is the color of mourning or peace, meant to represent peace here. Because only his shoulder is interested in being friendly. The rest is ready to fuck shit up. These arrows are for protection. "Please don't go all San Domingo, Medicine Hat Stallion and shoot my horse in the shoulder, you know what I'm saying?

Yellow stands for a few things: death, bravery, and that you're willing to fight to the death. I'm not, my horse is not, but it felt like a good color for our "lightning bolt" (okay, you can make fun of my artistic skills on that one) which adds power and speed.

He also had blue thunder stripes on his front legs which didn't come out in the slightest, and apparently I didn't write down what they meant anyway. More being a boss, no doubt.

So there you go! Your totally random history lesson for the day!

Just Hit Post

So much for my triumphant return to blogging!

This move has not been easy in any aspect.

#rickybobby

The house we're renting is an absolute dump, and we're paying twice as much to live in it than we were in our bigger and way better house in PA. After being here for...three? four? weeks, we finally bought our own fucking stove off of craigslist since the one in the house doesn't work and was leaking gas, but the landlord couldn't be bothered fixing it. Hubby's dad and brother came up and installed our "new" electric one this afternoon, so at least we can eat real food again.

On top of all the overwhelming stress and anxiety, on Monday morning I had to go in to put Stripes to sleep. After being on IV fluids for four days, her blood tests showed zero improvement, she was developing ulcers in her mouth from the kidney failure, she was having trouble breathing, and they were having to use lasix every time they needed her to pee.

stripies.

We still have no idea what brought on the kidney failure. She was a perfectly healthy young cat when we moved. After a couple days of living here, she got up on the bed with Hubby and I and peed on the blanket. I thought she might have a UTI so I planned on calling the vet the next morning to get her in. When I checked on her that morning, she was laying in a pool of blood under the bed from some sort of mass (later believed to be an ulcer) in her mouth.

I was able to get her right in, but it didn't do any good. We looked everywhere for something she could have gotten into, but found absolutely nothing.

the best, most tolerant cat in the world. she put up with puppy
antics without any complaints.

That pretty much knocked the wind right out of my  fucking sails as they say. I went to the barn afterwards since I had been in the middle of setting jumps when I got the call. After a completely shitty jump school on Friday after I forgot my regular jump tack at home where it'd been cleaned and had to use back up everything which resulted in a rude, runaway asshole, Bobby gave me the best ride Monday.

His canter was forward and bouncy, and we coasted over a course of 3'3" verticals without a single misstep. I quit after maybe fifteen minutes and we went on a trail ride to finish. Bobby spooked at a duck blasting out of the pond we were walking beside, and since his spook involves taking one step sideways, he tripped over his own feet and then spooked at himself tripping.

Oh, Bobby. You being spooky makes me giggle.

"i dunnot believe it. i am the most majestic creature in the world."

We've put in two dressage schools since then in preparation for our first show of the season Saturday. He's pretty sticky to the right warming up, but after a good canter (and his canter is seriously on point now that his giant fucking lug head has deigned to focus on me instead of horses in turnout) he gets trucking pretty well.

I feel like we're in good shape heading into this weekend. He'll get one more jump school, and then--way more exciting--he'll get a bath and his first overnight sleep in his Hello Kitty sleezy. My shit flip phone finally got upgraded to an iPhone, so I should have better quality pictures when I'm alone from here on out. Obviously there will be lots of Hello Kitty pictures.

why so worried, robert?
"are there no more carrots? why are there no more carrots in your hand?!"

I'll try to start pumping out posts again. If nothing else, I've got a few costumes that I haven't shared on the blog yet, a really cool custom tack trunk I want to show off, and breaking hunter princess news.