There’s a home show at the barn this weekend, on Sunday. I have the day off, have a healthy pony, and had actually tentatively planned on entering as recently as two weeks ago.

As the entry date got closer and closer, I realized I had not strong urge to show. It wasn’t like I was worried or nervous – one of the nice benefits of having a senior horse is the distinctly low or even nonexistant level of fucks I have to give about proving myself. More like I just didn’t feel any fire.

I thought a lot about where we are right now as a partnership. In some ways, we’re better than we ever were. In other ways, we’re worse.

See, taking him back to fundamentals in re-installing his driving aids and confirming his forward tendencies has been really good overall. Without question, he is moving better and more easily and working on forward has untangled some other problems. And I know that when we start to ease off this boot camp the rest of it will still be there to access, because he keeps trying to offer it. (For which he gets praise and thanks but I don’t take him up on the offer, because it’s not what I want to work on right now.)

On the other hand, focusing on forward means that he’s not exactly in a place I want to show off right now. His best moments are betterr than they’ve ever been! But I honestly feel no need to try to bottle them all up to put into the movements of a test. We have enough ~60% scores and third-place ribbons at Training Level. I’d rather go out and either really crush a Training test, or flop at First Level. (Honestly, I’d prefer the latter.)

There’s another home show in the fall that, all appendages crossed, might be a good time to take a swing at First Level. That’s my goal now.

On a purely “small obstacles that could have been overcome but meh” level, I opted to save the $60 entry cost, and have a boatload of yardwork planned around the house this weekend. 

So here we are: thinking hard about First Level for the fall. The only reason I am even a tiny bit sad to opt out is that I do like to show support for the barn. It’s usually a pretty full show – my entry won’t make or break it! – but still.

Anyone out there in a similar place, or are you ready and eager to go out and show this season?

First: this two lessons a month thing is one of the best things I’ve done for myself in a very long time. It’s right up there with my decision to bake 2-3 times a week. Good self-care and adulting, hooray me!

So, notes from last week’s lesson, with lunging pics to break up the chunks of text:

• Continuing on the FORWARD theme, I need to be even more careful about blocking with my hands. he’s way way way over-sensitive to any hint of back or slow down, so I need to be extra-careful about following hands without even the slightest whisper of blocking
• We got him so ticked off about going forward in the trot that he offered up a pretty impressive (for him) angry dolphin leap. I laughed so hard I basically dropped the reins, which is…not the appropriate reaction in that situation. That’s the good/bad of having ridden him for so long and knowing him so intimately. It’s not like he was going anywhere. He was just being pissy. Nevertheless, I was quite appropriately reprimanded by my trainer, because the answer to “eff you lady I’m going to kick up my heels and be snotty instead of going forward” is “GO FORWARD ANYWAY, HORSE” not collapsing in a heap of giggles. So when he did it again, I picked him back up immediately and kicked on and made him translate his (tiny) rage into a forward canter.

• My frustrated decision to pull my spurs after my last lesson and the realization that I have been over-relying on them has paid off. It’s made me pay far more attention to the way I use my legs.
• Tristan is getting noticeably more fit: he’s recovering faster, more willing to go for longer, and slower to sweat. Good news! Right now, I’m pretty darn happy with his overall health, though I always want more fitness.

I’ve been putting some of these lessons into practice, particularly outside, where I have been reluctant to really push for forward on account of how sometimes he turns into a raging asshole. So far: success!

The biggest thing we’re trying to work through outside is the line between a forward trot and a canter. When I ask for a bigger trot, sometimes he just flings himself into a canter. And it’s a tough line between rewarding for response to the leg aid but also making clear that’s not what I wanted. So I’m vacillating between pushing him HARD once he gets into that canter (if you’re going to canter, it had better be forward) and trying to establish a very gently barring outside rein.

See, this would be easier if he were on the bit and/or at less reactive to any hint of stop, because I could just ask him to go forward more into my hands, instead of just blanket forward. Forward more into my hands would help establish more trot instead of canter. He’s better about not flinging into canter when I have him at least holding the bit with a following rein, as opposed to totally loose rein (which is necessary when starting out to establish our baseline).

I don’t have a good answer yet, but I suspect it’s some combination of chipping away at a baseline forward trot (so he has an answer that he goes to more regularly), being more subtle with my aids (so I can more clearly differentiate between “more forward” and “change gait,” especially trot-canter), and all-around mileage with this new way of going.

It started so simply: we’re pulling Tristan’s shoes soon so I wanted to get some Magic Cushion as an overprotective preventive measure.

Then, as often happens when the words “Riding Warehouse” and “sale” happen in the same sentence, things escalated.

So, here’s the haul.

Centaur Rubber Spur Protectors: yeah, admittedly boring, but I just got those lovely new tall boots and I want to keep them unscathed.

Site note on RW’s amazing customer service: I remembered that I needed these about 0.0000005 seconds after I had hit the checkout button. Oops. But! I replied to the email I got confirming my order and said “pretty please can I add these for the same shipment?” And I had a reply within the hour on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. And they just added them for me, no muss, no fuss. I LOVE RIDING WAREHOUSE.

Magic Cushion: the stuff I actually started shopping for. I like to keep it around, and a pending barefoot transition seemed like the perfect time to replenish my supply. I’ll mostly use this after road hacks to take any sting out – and I fully expect there to be some sting. I’ve transitioned Tris back a few times now and my personal philosophy tends to be to expose him to some discomfort in order to toughen up his soles early on.

Cashel Quiet Ride Fly Mask with Ears. Okay, I’ll cop to not being entirely clear as to what differentiates this from just a fly mask, but it’s basically the same price so why not? I’ve been eyeing something like this for hacking out in the field for some time now. Tristan flings fly bonnets off his head with practiced ease, and when he gets really annoyed at bugs it can derail an entire ride. So I’m hoping this is a good alternative.

(For real though how on earth are you all getting those stupid fly bonnets to stay on? one good head toss from a fly and Tristan’s is hanging halfway down his face. I just can’t justify spending actual money on something I spend half the ride leaning forward and putting back into place.)

Ecovet fly spray. I saw a lot of raving about this on the internet last year, and it’s time to start stocking up, so I picked up a bottle of this to start out the season with. I’ve tried a lot of different fly sprays, like many of you, and found pretty small variation in effectiveness, so I’m always up for experimentation.

Durasole, two bottles. THE MIRACLE STUFF. See also, transitioning back to barefoot.

Hoof oil can with brush. I still really like my previous method of applying Dursole, but after several years of use it’s not in great shape. This was cheaper than a new one and very much what I’d been looking for in the first place, so here’s hoping it fits easily into the workflow.

Wahl clipper oil. For $2, an excellent clearance find. It’ll last forever and my old bottle was gone.

Ariat Women’s Ramiro Sweater. My new winter wardrobe philosophy revolves almost entirely around merino. Also, around things I can wear back and forth between work and the barn. At $27, this was an easy call.

I emerged from my April of hell to have a lovely birthday weekend…and then run smack into a nasty virus that flattened me for most of a week. I still had to go to work, of course, because working for nonprofits is an exercise in human misery sometimes, but the barn was not happening.

Thankfully, I started feeling significantly better on Saturday and then the urge to CLEAN ALL THE THINGS kicked in. I had made a very, very tentative start on this before I got sick, but now I am in full blown spring cleaning mode.

So I made a list. Here’s a month long spring cleaning challenge for horse people.

Week 1: Tack Trunk

1. Completely empty and scrub out your tack box. Throw out incidental pieces of trash that have collected in corners, wipe down every surface inside.
2. Pair up all boots, roll up all polo wraps. Scrub out any that need it, inspect for loose stitches, set aside any that you don’t use regularly.
3. Lay out and clean all grooming tools. Inspect for signs of wear, replace anything that needs it.
4. Organize incidentals in tack trunk: pens, paper, fiddly things.
5. Review your first aid kit and replace any and all necessary supplies. Check expiration dates on meds, check batteries in thermometers and flashlights.
6. Lay out all your saddle pads. Clean them thoroughly, inspect for loose stitching, decide whether you really want/need all of them.
7. Wild card! What else do you need to do? Fill it in here.

Week 2: Laundry

1. Go over all your blankets, coolers, and sheets for loose stitches, missing pieces, unnoticed holes. Make arrangements to get them fixed, fix them yourself, or just make a note to keep an eye on them.
2. Lay out all your gloves. All of them. Match them up. Clean them, repair them, or toss them.
3. Try on your breeches. All of them. Sort them into keep & get rid of piles. Really focus on whether you wear them and love them, or they’re taking up space.
4. Thoroughly clean and condition your saddle(s).
5. Thoroughly clean and condition your bridle(s).
6. Thoroughly clean and condition your other strap goods.
7. Wild card! What else needs to be cleaned and gone through, for your horse or yourself?

Week 3: Paperwork

1. Review your emergency contact information at the barn, for you and for your horse. Update as necessary.
2. Update all your horse’s medical records. Take a new TPR baseline, write it down, and put it in a prominent place.
3. Do you have any magazines or catalogs lying around and taking up space? Out they go.
4. Organize all your show/registration/membership paperwork. Make sure you have some kind of good ID sheet in case of emergency or theft – take some photographs from all sorts of angles of your horse, put them together with a careful description.
5. Make a list. Any list. show prep, future projects, goals, items to replace, future purchases – something. Organize your horse-related thoughts.
6. Borrow a label-maker and go to town. Buy a new sharpie and go over your horse’s name on all relevant things. Make sure it’s clearly visible.
7. Wild card! What else needs to be organized, paperwork-wise?

Week 4: The Great Beyond

1. Write a nice note to someone who has helped you out recently – your trainer, the barn staff, a fellow boarder, your vet.
2. Volunteer to do something around the barn that’s on the longterm to do list. Walk the fenceline, attack the cobwebs, scrub out the grain bins.
3. Make plans to volunteer at a show or event.
4. Find an equine-related charity and make a donation.
5. Do you have a will specifying what will happen to your horse in the event of your untimely death? Do you have a few people who will explicitly be part of that planning and decision-making? Create that if you don’t. Update it if you do.
6. Do one thing you’ve been putting off for a really long time. Whatever it is, just do it.
7. Wild card! Anything else on your plate?

So, what’s on your list? Anything I forgot that you always do? Anything I added that you never thought to do?

Well, my work spring from hell is over. It ended well, work-wise. Not so much, personally. Until Sunday, I basically did nothing but work and sleep. Everything else went by the wayside, including horse time. I went out once or twice to pet him on the nose. Once late at night to groom him, so exhausted it felt like I was doing so through molasses, but it felt so good in the briefly-spring warm weather to do something as simple as work on him with a shedding comb.

So on Sunday, part of resetting my brain was spending as long as I wanted at the barn. That meant a good long thirty minute grooming session, piles and piles of hair on the floor of the barn aisle. It meant a bareback pad and a line of poles, for about 40 minutes of walking and a very little bit of trotting. Asking for softness. He was so happy that he offered a trot and then a flying leap over the first pole. I effed up the rest of the line, I was laughing so hard I was crying.

Then Monday, another long grooming session and proper tack for a 40 minute dressage school. Nothing fancy, just seeing what I had. Not much bending or lateral work, but he was willing to have a conversation about softness, and I got a taste of the good canter I had before this all started. The one that’s not perfect – he’s a bit heavy and tipped on his forehand – but he’s trying so hard that he forgets he can do anything but canter, charging forward into the bridle, the one that floats down seamlessly to the biiiiiig trot when I just shift my weight.

I’m caught between two conflicting feelings right now.

On the one hand, I’m starting over. Again. Tristan hasn’t been touched in six weeks. Any semblance of fitness I fought for over the winter – and I grant you, it was not much, it was a hellish winter – is gone. Melted away. He has a hay belly and looks homeless. The training is not gone – at 23, he’s long past “forgetting” how thing should go. But I can’t exactly pick up the reins and dig back in. I have to do short dressage schools and loads of conditioning.

I feel like I’ve been in this cycle for years now. I get a good head of steam, I’m enthusiastic, happy with how he’s going, he starts to feel sharp and keen, and something happens. He’s injured. Work blows up. I’m out of town. I can’t afford training board, so he sits. (Happily so! He really thinks he should be retired.) Then I get back to it, and start all over again. That’s a really frustrating place to be, over and over. I feel like I make progress in the most agonizing, incremental baby steps that it’s absurd. It feels like there’s no point.

On the other hand, I’m excited and re-energized. While I was working my endless hours, I had a lot of time in my head to think about what I wanted my life to look like once I was able to claim it again. I missed Tristan, desperately, and I missed riding. I also thought a lot about how much I missed being in a program, and how scheduling regular lessons again would help keep me feeling like I was making progress.

So it was almost meditative to get back to things on Sunday. I didn’t feel the need to decompress at all – I had an extremely long and busy day on Saturday – just eager to get back at it. I have a lesson scheduled for next week, and I have a plan going forward for lessons every two weeks.

Back at the beginning again, but I’m good at it by now. I’ve got this.