Lub Dub. Lub Dub.

First:  weather sucks.  OR and I had plans to have a great pony reunion yesterday, but we got rained out.  While St. Patty's isn't a banker's holiday, my office is on the route of the parade.  Savannah seems to be the drunken epicenter for St. Patty's Day in the southeast.  Had I been able to find parking, I would have had to wade through green-beer toting leprechauns at eight in the morning.  You think I'm kidding.  So, I was given an admin day off.

Like this.  For four days.  For reals.
Second:  I have been spoiled.  It has been so great having OR and the Eventer to ride with, to jump with, to design courses (and assemble...), that I'm having a hard time doing this shit by myself.  Part of me wants to jump every single day, but only baby crossrails at the trot.  The other part of me knows that I need to grow some and work on courses and height and doing things in a reasonable fashion, rather than farting around in the fetal position while my pony launches himself over things. Sooo.  We've been practicing height.  And cantering, but mostly just getting over my fear of that magical second foot.

Whatever day it was (Saturday?), I worked a little bit with three fences in the ring.  L. Williams has been contracted to help me figure out some courses because I am not creative and our ring is tiny.  Anyways, it was this:
Master artist.  You're welcome.

The green was set as a big crossrail and, initially, the blue and red were 18" verticals.  Then I moved them all up to a bigger crossrail and bigger verticals.  Since the standards have wonky holes, 2' comes after 18".  I did a few mini courses of the red to the green around to the blue or the blue to the green up to the red.  As much creativity as I could muster.  And then I moved the blue up to 2'6", because why the fuck not?

BUHHAHAHAHAHA

I cantered up the red, came down the fence line, had a beautiful circle to the 2'6", mentally shat myself and cruised right by it.  

So I lowered one end to 2', kept the other at 2'6".  That would make the center roughly 2'3".

My husband asked me who videotaped me jumping.  My reply:  the fence.  




Looking at it now, I totally could have kept it at 2'6".
Maybe.
I ended with my hunchback impersonation and took Archie to the dirt road directly across the street.  He's been back there before, but dude didn't remember that.  He spun and farted and snorted at imaginary things and I tapped him with my crop and growled at him and, finally, we had a nice marchy little trot until we were about half a mile back.  Then it was walking back to the barn.

Shot gun shells!
Or: the reason we hadn't been back here.
I loved that tree.


Third:  Updates.  The police officer that investigated the shooters next door never called me.  I called her.  She didn't call me back.  I think we're broken up now.  

I mentioned previously that work had gotten really fucking hard.  I thought, after six weeks, that it was coming to an end and I'd have a little reprieve.  It hasn't.  Two more weeks.  And then I'll be a better reader/commenter/blogger and revert back to being a horrible employee.

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16 comments

  1. "She didn't call me back. I think we're broken up now." LOLOLOLOLOL

    Also, I empathize greatly with this, "And then I'll be a better reader/commenter/blogger and revert back to being a horrible employee" Siiigh real world.

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  2. My life is suffering because you have decided to be a good employee.

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  3. Sorry to hear about your break up.

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    Replies
    1. I'm so heartbroken, dude. She won't return my calls.

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  4. Replies
    1. sigh

      It's already sooo against my nature, anyways.

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  5. I can't decide if saint patrick's in Savannah would be fun or terrifying.

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    1. Terrifyingly fun? Like a roller coaster! Of alcohol, beads, public intoxication and public indecency!

      Actually, it was pretty cool the one time I got to enjoy it from D's boss's apartment above a square on the parade route. Air conditioning, food, free alcohol. No random strangers.

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  6. I grin with each new post as you get braver and braver: breaking that 2" limit, going out on the trails more and more. So so happy for you and all the amazing progress you've made since moving to this barn.

    I hear ya on riding solo after getting used to riding with buddies. It's so much harder to get motivated. Laughed at the same parts of the post that the others have already commented on, so won't repeat what has already been said. :) You're awesome and your blog is awesome. Period.

    Hope work gets better soon so you can get back to being a bad employee. ;)

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    1. :)

      I appreciate the vote of confidence! You know, jumps are scary. I just have to remember that Archie and I have a great relationship: unless I sabotage him, he's going to take me over the jump. And, a million years ago, height invigorated me. I need to find that part of myself.

      And I really, really want to take him fox hunting, so we totally have to get going on the trails!

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  7. Sorry to hear that work is eating into fun blogging time and of course commiserations on the break up! (LOL)
    Love all the improvements yourself & Archie are making, hope I can be half as motivated when I next get my butt back in tack

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    Replies
    1. Hey, mounting is the first step!

      Or maybe driving is. Catching? Tacking up? Planning enough to bring riding clothes?

      I love having a job, but I hate working. :)

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  8. Gotta work to make money to pay the horsey bills...keep at er!

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    1. Lottery! ..Which an old stats professor actually called the dumb man's tax.

      There are so many horsey bills. Horse needs a job, but I don't want anyone else riding him.

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