I'm So Excited (And I Just Can't Hide It, Obviously)

Last night I dreamed I was going eventing. Sometimes dreams have meanings that are obscure and hard to find the reasoning behind. Sometimes there is no reason behind them except eating cheese right before bed- trust me, I speak from experience.  However, there was no great mystery behind this dream, I was undoubtedly excited to be riding that day after a three-month hiatus.

All day at work, however, I felt completely crappy: nausea, headache, chills, etc.  When I texted this to my fiance, he very sweetly replied, “You sound miserable.  You should take some sick leave and just go home and rest.”

Go home? If I left work then that would mean I wasn’t well enough to make my lesson that evening.

“I have a lesson tonight.  I took some naproxen and now my head feels much better,” I texted back.  Suddenly, in the face of not having my lesson, I wasn’t sick at all!

As you can tell, I was so ready to ride, nothing was going to stop me.  As I drove to the barn after work I felt such a sense of anticipation, of - as corny as it sounds- joy at the thought of being around the horses. Riding, grooming, just listening to them as they shifted in their stalls eating hay… I couldn’t wait. While it wasn’t exactly the same feeling I get when I visit my family halfway across the country, it was pretty close.

The intense, almost childlike excitement I was feeling served to remind me that horses and riding are what I love.  They make me feel whole.  Or, if you prefer modern cliches: I know that I’m living my best life when horses are involved.

So, even though when I got to my lesson, my fingers froze, my half-chaps wouldn’t zip all the way (But I’ve been working out regularly! waaaaaah!), my muscles didn’t work the way I wanted or I had to listen to my fellow students talk about the horses they’re leasing (don’t cry for me Argentina, I’m sure the decorations at my wedding will be well worth cutting back on lessons…..*sobs*)…. Even despite all these frustrating things, I couldn’t help but think:

at least I get to ride again.

It’s good to be back in the saddle (yet again).

Wedding Vs. A Horse

My fiance and I are planning a wedding sometime next year and I'm very pleased to be affirming our commitment formally in front of our friends.

Still, every now and then the old urge to window shop for horses online rises and I find myself looking at horses and thinking, "What if we used all this money that we're scrimping and saving for the wedding and bought a horse instead?"

I mean, our wedding budget could pay for this cutie here and we'd still have enough left over to cover his room and board for a couple of years.

A popular joke among equestrians is how our beloved horses practically devour our hard-earned money as food, how the ability to write a hefty check without wincing is almost as essential as keeping your heels down, and how we're all crazy to have such an expensive money that will absorb all the funds you can throw at it.

When you think about it though, what's crazier: spending a bunch of money on a celebration that only lasts one day, or spend that same amount of money buying and caring for a horse of my one's very own for years to come?

Hypothetically speaking, of course.*






*Unless you're reading this, sweetie and you completely agree with me.  In which case, I already have my checkbook handy :)

New Gloves Update

You're probably super excited to see that I have an update for my super riveting glove problem from my last post.  I mean, it is a pretty fascinating story...

Anyway,  to recap:

This was the state my gloves were in before I finally admitted defeat and ordered a new pair.  So, I ordered my new gloves, blindly guessing the size (my old gloves were out in my car, which was like, super far considering I was ensconced on the couch with a dog in my lap) and they just arrived!

I gotta say, despite guessing at my size, they fit....like a glove.

Aw YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

(Yeah, I went there. This is what my life is now: really bad puns about gloves)

I Think It's Time For New Gloves

Just a guess.....

I Love My Barn, But.... (WARNING: a bit medically gag-inducing)

I love my new barn a lot.  Great trainer, beautiful facility, close to where I live/work.... I mean, it's pretty much the tops.  There is one thing (sparkly pink unicorn saddle pads aside), however, that really gets my goat.  (Also, this place has goats.  Like I said, it's the tops).

The interesting thing is that I've never had this problem at any of the other barns I've been at, which makes me wonder.  Now, contrary to other barns I've belonged to, my typical riding outfit of jeans and an old t-shirt I don't mind getting sweat, horse snot and dirt on, stands out from the rest of the crowd.  What was normal at my previous places now makes me look like some kind token wrong-side-of-the-tracks kid.

So, I feel like it might have something to do with the fact that the clientele is a little different than what I'm used to, but it could be something completely different that has nothing to do with the stereotype I'm about to make. You see, there are a lot of young'uns at the barn and their moms all tend to arrive to pick them up wearing the same outfit: yoga pants and flip flops.

I've no problems with the yoga pants, I don't blame you for wanting to be comfortable, but flip flops? Flip flops for crying out loud!

Am I the only one who was taught never to wear open-toed shoes to a barn? Was that just a midwest thing because we only get three months out of the year to wear sandals and our pedicure game is just not up to par?

Every place I've ridden, you come to the barn you wear closed-toe shoes.  Every place.  Sure, if you weren't born into a horsey family you might not know that off the bat, but in my experience, parents and riders alike learned really quickly. 

Just a couple weeks ago, a gross photo of the mangled foot and toenail (I'm trying not to gag right now) of a horse person I know popped up in my facebook feed without warning (another pet peeve of mine-  I was eating lunch at the time btw) who had been caught in her wellies.  If you're a horse person, you've probably also seen the oft-shared photo of that foot that was practically all scraped  off (I can feel the bile rising in my throat) that I'm NOT going to share here (not even if you paid me in Ryan Goslings.).  NOBODY wants that to happen to them, nobody.

So, what gives? To make matters worse, these women often stand in high traffic areas talking to each other.  People who are inexperienced with unpredictable creatures + standing in a high-traffic area + flip flops just seems to = painful disaster waiting to happen.

 So far, I've never witnessed anyone say anything to these women to educate them.  I sort of feel like that's my trainer's position (and maybe she has spoken to them and they just don't care, to be fair I don't know) to educate them and I don't want to be that person, that nosy know-it-all with unasked for advice.  Still, the whole situation just makes me nervous.  

What do you think, is there a polite and non-bossy way to suggest they wear real shoes, or do I just shut up and mind my own dang business?  

P.S. I did try to avoid being too graphic, but I'm sorry if this post grossed you out.  I'll try not to do it again.

Sparkly Pink Unicorns

When I was a teenager and deep in the throes of my-very-own-horse-at-long-last bliss, I received as a Christmas present from my fake Uncle (don't try to tell me that you don't have "aunts" and "uncles" who aren't related to you, too) and former partner in the horse biz a set of fluffy polo wraps in a very bright robin's egg blue.   I adored them.  They were blue (my favorite color) and they were fun! 

But why, I wondered, had Uncle Alex chosen that particular shade of blue when my show colors were the same solemn navy and grey as my father's?

"Because he probably did it to annoy me," my father the equine-conservative answered.  Yes, I would like to introduce that phrase into your lexicon. Let's just diverge for a second.

 The equine-conservative is someone for whom rust breeches is a bold statement.  Their colors are never bright anything, but always one of the traditional hunter colors of navy, grey, maroon, and well, hunter. When riding after the hounds, the equine-conservative always carries a turkey sandwich in his or her sandwich case. Belts will always be worn, even if you're breeches fit just fine thank-you-very-much and even under a hunt coat where no one can possible see it (ask me how I know this).  And "bling" is a dirty word not to be uttered in polite company.

So, you can imagine that my fervent and repeated pleas to dress my horse in twinkle toes and some Sleazy Sleepwear fell upon deaf (if slightly horrified) ears. Eventually, I grew up like many children do.  That is to say, I became my father.

 Yes, that's right- I'm now an equine-conservative myself.  Well, mostly. Ask to see my belt now, Dad! *Proudly parades around in belt so heavily encrusted in bling it actually pulls breeches down instead of keeping them up*


But I digress.

I simply want you to understand where I've come from so that you'll better understand the predicament I'm in now.  Since I upended my life and move a thousand miles away, I've found a new barn and a new trainer and started riding again.  My new trainer really is great, so much so that I'm willing to ignore the fact that lessons are more than I wanted to spend and the barn is farther than I wanted to drive.  But there is one thing that's beginning to be a bit of a problem...

Of the equines in the school horse string, I would estimate that a mere 30% are over 14 hands and a slim 1% are over 16 hands.  Indeed, the majority of mounts for riding lessons are adorable fluffy ponies.  Their riders? Equally adorable little girls in jodhpurs and pigtails. Yes, I am a bit of an outlier. Thank you for noticing.

Let me share with you one more percentage: 50% of the communal square pads for lesson use have pink somewhere on them. Pink. Bright pink, pale pink, one even has- yes, you guessed it- sparkly pink unicorns adorning the border. I'm grimacing my best grouchy-old-lady frown just writing about it.  I am not an adorable little girl on a fluffy pony, I am a stodgy, traditional, 20-something equine-conservative gosh dangit!

So, each time I go to tack up my horse for a lesson, I feel like I'm playing saddle pad roulette.  Please, please, please let the green one, the black one or even the tattered white one be clean! I mutter under my breath making the long walk to the tack room.

So far, I've been pretty lucky, but I know one day my number will be up and I'll walk into that room, look on the shelf and staring back at me will be the cheerful smug eyes of the sparkly pink unicorns.  Oh, I'll look around frantically for any other saddle pad that might be hiding under a saddle or in locker, but none will be around.  And there I will be, a slightly round, 20-something equine-conservative on fluffy draft cross with a bright pink sparkly unicorn saddle pad.

I'm just not sure my very precarious dignity can take that kind of a hit. So, I've done what any sane mature adult would do..... I asked my mommy to send me a care package from home filled with my old saddle pads.

An Ongoing Lesson In Humility

As I mentioned, I've recently started riding after a nearly two-year hiatus. As I also mentioned, I have learned that it is a super-bad idea to take a nearly two-year hiatus from riding.

I started getting sore before my first riding lesson was over.  By the time I made it home I could hardly sit, let alone walk.  I'm not saying I ever had the greatest leg (my IHSA coach can attest to that), but now I have not even the shadowiest remains of leg. And I'm pathetically out of shape, like huffing and puffing after a couple laps around the ring out of shape. Also, my left ankle, which was weak and annoying before has now officially gone to crap.

Nothing works the way it used to. I know what I'm supposed to do, but my body doesn't cooperate and  It's incredibly infuriating to not be able to ride the way I know I can. I'm sure anyone who has ever tried to get back into riding after an extended absence can relate.

Adding another interesting layer is the fact that I've resumed my riding career with a new trainer. My new coach is great, she's very understanding about how life sometimes intervenes with our equine plans, but she's never seen me ride when I was in shape.  She only has my word that I've ridden for 18 years and showed etc.

Every time my leg flails around like an over-cooked noodle, or I miss a distance or botch a canter depart I almost feel like I need to say, "No really, I used to ride," or "I used to have a leg, I promise!" just to prove I'm not lying about my experience level.

But, those would only come off like excuses. It's an ongoing lesson in humility each time I ride. The only solution is to prove my abilities over time.  In the meantime my pride will just have to adjust.

Getting to Know You

As I previously mentioned, there have been some changes in my life recently. Namely, I upended my life in the midwest and moved to the mid-atlantic. I also started riding again.

It was so great to step in a barn again and smell that familiar aroma of horse and hay. Walking down the long aisle hearing the sounds of gentle crunching and the occasional snort was a balm for my stressed-out soul.

See, it was actually about six months after I moved here that I started riding.  It was a whirlwind transition as I started my super-cool-big-kid job about a week after we arrived.  For a long time my cool job kept me from dwelling on the upheaval of relocation. I poured myself into my work (it really is a neat place) and tried not to think about leaving my family behind, my friends behind, how I hated driving in this new town, how nothing was the same anymore...but then work started getting stressful.

Then I started to unravel. It wasn't fun, but it helped me realize that I needed invest myself in things besides my work.  So, I decided to start riding again.

It's been great so far.  I like the barn, the people seem nice and my new instructor is worth every penny I pay and every extra mile I drive.  It's no secret to horse people that horses are often the best therapy.

Each time I've ridden at my new barn I've had a different horse.  First there was the cranky and slow one, then a hot one who hated having his ears touched and had to be bridled in a unique way, then a sweet green one, then a non-steering draft cross and so on.

As I was cooling one of the horses out after a lesson one time, I sighed.  I suddenly realized I missed the familiarity of the horses I left behind.  The ones whose personality quirks I already knew. Doesn't stop, hates left turns, doesn't like the short distances etc. Having to go through the awkward getting-to-know-you stages all over again  made me homesick.  Then it hit me that this was a bigger metaphor for my new life.

I left my friends behind and now I had to go through the act of making friends all over again. Worse, there was a different set of cultural norms in this place and I felt like I was always running afoul of them. I missed the familiarity of my old life. Everything from my family and friends down to little stupid stuff like restaurants and the gardening store I used to frequent.

I still miss my old home and my old life.  I'm still having a little trouble making friends, but it is getting easier.  Even if the horses are different and have a whole host of quirks that need to be learned, the ritual of brushing, tacking up, riding, untacking, brushing is a therapy that's familiar and most welcome. 

Horse'n Around

Hello Dear Bloggie,

How've you been? I've missed you!

So a few things have happened since I last wrote: I quit my job, packed up my house, moved halfway across the country with CK, got a really cool big-kid job, and most importantly, started riding again.

Somehow I managed to find a really cool place to ride, with a covered arena and an instructor who seems totally normal. It's pretty awesome. 

However, I do have some words of advice for the youngsters out there:

DO NOT TAKE A TWO-YEAR BREAK FROM RIDING, IT IS A BAD IDEA.


For realsies. I never knew I could hurt so much.  Still,  it's great to have horses in my life again.


I'm back and better than ever.

Holly

As an animal lover I've almost always been surrounded by animals.  Around the time I entered college that slowly changed until I was living with no animals.  It was not a state I wanted to stay in any longer than I had to.  I missed my animals and I missed having animals in my daily life.

Finally, after graduation, I was in a place in my life where having a puppy might again be possible.  I managed to convince my lovely boyfriend (more like badgered, pleaded with, and annoyed).  One weekend I decided that it would be a good day to look at dogs at the shelter.  Boyfriend wasn't so sure.

"If we go look at dogs, we're probably going to come with one," he said wisely, "and I just don't think the house is quite dog proofed yet."

"Is that your only objection, that the house isn't ready for a dog?"

"Pretty much."

To this day, Boyfriend jokes that he has never seen me clean the house so quickly.  He likes to say that now he knows how to motivate me to clean: dangle the prospect of a dog over my head.  I like to think of it as proof of how serious I was about getting a dog.

So, we went to the shelter.........aaaaaaaand we came home with a dog.  Boyfriend was totally right, but I would like to point out that I was fully emotionally prepared to not adopt a dog that day.  I knew he wanted to think over any dog he met and Boyfriend is consistently practical. 

He says he knew once we met our puppy on the very same day she was available for adoption, that she wouldn't be there at the shelter the next day.  

I almost cried when he said we should get her.  Seriously. I was ecstatic.

I love this little dog.  She is so sweet and goofy and wiggly.

Holly is a Catahoula Leopard Dog mixed with something else.  Feel free to look that up, we definitely had to.  

She's a southern gal and we have no idea what her history was.  We think she was somebody's pet based on the fact that she was pretty much house broken and knew a few commands.  Our guess is that her energy was just too much for her previous owner.

It breaks my heart to think of somebody not wanting Holly.  Clearly this has affected her too.  She has some separation anxiety and when we're home she has to be touching one of her people.  I think it reassures her that we're not going anywhere.  If she's outside when one of us leaves, she hops in the open car door and refuses to get out.

She loves to snuggle.  Specifically, she loves to sleep on or next to my legs at night, thereby locking me into one set sleeping position for the whole night.

She's not perfect, but she's mine and I just adore her to pieces.

I am such a nervous first time mom though.  When we first got her she didn't want to eat dry food and I worried after she lost a pound.  My worrying hasn't gotten much better (though she did start eating soon after we got her).  When I took her Petsmart to get her nails trimmed for the first time, my eyes bulged when the nice lady told me they'd call me when she was ready.  You mean I couldn't stay and watch her and make sure she was okay?  I settled on circling the aisles directly in view of the salon window, trying very had to be subtle.  "Oh I'm just going to look at these cool interesting....things right here.  Nope, definitely not spying on my dog. Not at all."

She was perfect and the groomer complimented me on how happy and wiggly and sweet she was.

I was and continue to be such a proud momma. :)

It's Alive!

I haven't posted in three months, but yes, I am alive.


I've been busy working on an awesome project about mustangs for my last class in my college career.


And then there was trying to find a job.


And graduating.


And then there's this:

So, I've had a couple of things going on.  Basically, I haven't ridden in three months.

I'm hoping to change that really soon.  Stay tuned......

Babies!!

I have never held a human baby.  Over the years I've come up with any number of excuses: I have a cold, I have poor hand eye coordination, I just coated my arms in teflon.... I'm just not good with babies. Human babies, that is. Equine babies are a whole different story.

Show me a foal and I will squeal and hop up and down like every terrible girl stereotype you've ever seen on t.v. It's horrible and wonderful at the same time. There's just something about the big stork legs, the fuzzy ears, the adorable itty bitty noses and whiskers.

Oh heavens. So cute!

Eeek!

Foals are part of why I love spring so much. Though I'd desperately like to have a foal someday (or right now), I've been lucky the past few years to have friends that I can vicariously live through.  They've been incredibly generous and let me play with and squeal over their cutey patootey (see what foals do to me? it's borderline embarrassing ) babies when I see them. 

There's just one thing: nobody I know has a baby coming this year so I'm foaless. 

I'm jonesing over here.  Anybody got a cute foal I can snuggle, or a picture of their 2012 foaling arrivals that I can coo over?

Horse Stories with My Dad

My Dad adjusting a jump back in the day...

I love hearing my dad's stories about his about his life with horses.  He's had so many different experiences, varied careers, and all while being largely self-taught since the age of 15.  I don't think it's just familial pride talking when I say that he has some fascinating stories.

If there are two types of stories I really like, it's tales of adventure and anything that has to do with a central equine character.  I've been hearing my dad's stories since I was a young child and it's gotten so that I can picture the horses he talks about and their names are almost as familiar as my own.  I never get tired of hearing about his life as a horseman, even the repeat stories.

So when at lunch recently, the conversation about thoroughbreds turned to my dad's experiences retraining OTTBS to become field hunters, I listened intently. 

He used to work at a hunt and it was part of his job to take the OTTBS the owner had inherited and turn them into suitable mounts for fox hunting.   This includes not only jumping, but being calm around baying hounds and having the whippers be able to crack the whip while mounted.  I can't even get one of the OTTBS at the barn to pick up the right lead canter!

He talked of one of the horses that broke out its front teeth, the big grey that even the timidest of riders could handle, and how he and his coworker got to take two of their favorite hunters to a show once.  He remembers that they swapped horses halfway through and he won one class on Simona and one on a bay.

This is where my mother comes in.  It must be said, that my father's horse stories wouldn't be as good without my mother.  She never rode the horses in shows or on hunts, but she acted as groom, stablehand, and horse show mother to my dad's students.  Her memories of the horses come from a different perspective that is no less detailed or valuable.

She corrects and says that it was Palazzo that he took and that Palazzo was more brown then bay.  In addition, she adds, Palazzo was also one of her favorites because of his sweet disposition.  

She remembers the people and horses that my dad does not and her stories about her experiences as a groom are the perhaps the most telling about the human and equine characters.  Though, since she loves any animal she meets, I swear that almost all of them are her favorites, which is telling about how kind my mother is.

Every time I hear a story from my dad, whether it's the first time or the tenth, I always learn something new.  They're also just fun to hear about.  Someday, I hope to record all of my parent's stories.  Maybe my future descendants will be as horse crazy as their ancestors!

Master and Commander

Speaking of thoroughbreds of the future, or rather, speaking of Buck.....

I thought I'd talk about how I learned what a lead change felt like which has everything to do with Buck, the school horse, but then I realized I should just explain the horse and the lead change bit will make sense later.

Buck is a school horse teeming with personality.

That's the best word I can come up with to sum him up.  In case you've forgotten, this is Buck.

This is how he looks a great chunk of the time. Not a lesson day goes by where he doesn't try to bite me while he's crosstied.  He is a bona fide crabby guy. However, sometimes, on rare occasions when he's happy or you have an apple in your non-camera hand, he looks like this.

Before I go into the list of things Buck dislikes (which is long), I thought I'd go through the list of things Buck actually likes (which is short.)

Buck likes:

1. Treats, specifically apples, but regular treats will do
2. Beginners. When my coach first told me that Buck loved beginners, I did not believe her. Now, I've seen it with my own eyes and I'm a believer.  This cranky, bitey, fussy horse turns into a complete babysitter with a newbie on his back.  He trots over poles with his nose poked out, he lopes around without so much as swish of his tail. Little kids can cling to his neck or goose him in the ribs and he will patiently continue on, utterly unflappable.
3. Jumpers.  Like Eddie, Buck is a cranky school horse who was once somebody's jumper.  Also like Eddie, Buck loves to relive his jumper past.  As soon as the oxers get wider or the turns sharper, he starts to get excited.  He will charge boldly down to a jump, yank his knees up to his ears, and round his back so hard suddenly your nose is in his mane.  On the backside he will execute a 180 degree spin rollback to the next jump at the slightest cue. His little ears are permanently forward and you can almost hear him saying, "Now THIS is an appropriate use of my skills."

That's it for what Buck likes.  So, here's the list of things that make Buck cranky.

1. Grooming
2. Wearing a girth or having it tightened
3. Non-beginner riders
4. Going in a frame
5. Bending through corners
6. Being asked to go forward if he's feeling lazy
7. Corners again
8. Trailering
9. Having people jump on his neck
10. Getting told the wrong distance one too many times

The last two are pretty understandable (what horse would like that?) and he's usually pretty generous the first three or four times it happens.  After that, and especially if you commit more than one cardinal sin concurrently, all bets are off.

Although, there was that one time I borrowed Buck for a clinic and was assured that he hated loading, hated trailering and was horrible the first day in a new place.  He loaded first time, rode quietly, unloaded like a dream, and worked all weekend like a rock star.  He even did bending exercises! If I hadn't known any better, I would have sworn that he winked at me when I returned him home.  Just when you think you've got him pegged, he throws you for a loop. He is quite possibly a mastermind.

How does the mighty and noble Buck express his displeasure?  His ears will be flattened against his head, his tail will wring furiously, and he'll stark kicking in his lead changes with more and more gusto.  Yes, there's the lead change tie in.  Many a time I've let out a "oof!" as my body is flung slightly forward.  One time, I think I even heard my back crack.  I must say though, Buck has taught to sit a lead change well.  That's what a good school horse does, teaches you to ride without being dangerous.  So Buck, quirks and all, is really an excellent teacher.

Now I need to go to my lesson so I can give him the treats he knows he deserves.

One Year Anniversary

A year ago today I wrote my very first blog post.  I wanted a place where I could write about horses.  My instructors have tried to incorporate my interests whenever possible, but there's only so much the curriculum will allow.  So, I created this blog so I can practice writing about what I love.

I didn't set out thinking that every word was going to be perfect or that I was going to be wildly popular with a bunch of followers.  A year later and the words are still sometimes wonky and I still get the feeling that I'm talking to an empty room.  But actually, that's just fine.

There's time for perfection or a big following.  Right now I'm still just enjoying writing for me.  Honing my words and writing new stories.  I can't wait to see what the next year brings.

So if you are out there in cyber space reading this, thank you.  Thank you for giving this blog, and me, a chance.  I have a bunch of new content planned including a blog re-design and some new illustrations!

Happy Birthday!

Welcome to 2012 and big Happy Birthday to all racing-bred Thoroughbreds out there!

Today is also the anniversary of the day I bought my own horse, also a Thoroughbred.  In fact, my dad used to joke what a poor financial decision we made buying my horse on his birthday.  Instead of buying a spry six year-old, we bought an older, depreciated seven year old.

If you're not a TB person, all TB racehorses have the same technical birthday.  For example, my horse was really born in March, but his official date of birth is January 1st.  So he was considered one year old on that date even though he was technically only 10 months old.  This has to do with races which are broken down by age groups, like the Kentucky Derby being a race only for three year-olds.  The goal is to have your foal born as soon after January 1st as possible so as to give it more time to develop.

Anyway, Happy Birthday Thoroughbreds!

A Phone Call that Changed Everything...

It was on this date ten years ago that I received what would turn out to be a very important phone call.

Christmas was over, all the presents unwrapped and food devoured.  I was home alone while my parents were out to dinner when the landline rang.  It was my trainer.  She called to tell me about a horse that was in the barn on trial.

Earlier that year, my parents had finally decided that the time and circumstances were right for me to have my first horse. So, we embarked on a journey to find a horse that fit my dad's requirements (both temperament and height) as well as our budget.

 Horses were tried and I became so desperate to have a horse that I could be heard saying after each trial, "I liked that one.  We should get him.  Please?" I said this even after riding a horse that tried, painfully, to scrape me off on a post.  Such was my desire to have a horse to call my own.

So, it was with eager attentiveness that I listened to my trainer's description of the horse.  He was in the barn on trial for another rider who was also looking.  She had decided that she didn't like him and my trainer thought maybe we would like to see him while he was still there.  He was a bit of a diamond in the rough, she said, but he had potential.  More importantly, he was quiet, tall, and in our budget.

His trial was almost up, so if we were interested we would have to look at him quickly and decide even more quickly.  I promised that I would tell my parents about it as soon as they got back.  As soon as I hung up the phone with my trainer, I squirmed and jigged around the house in excitement.

 If my parents had possessed a cell phone at the time you can bet I would have called them straight away.  However, they did not so I had to content myself to wait anxiously, hoping and praying that this horse, would finally be the one that would be my horse.  I swear a dinner never took so long as the one my parents ate that night.

We did go to see this horse and he was everything we wanted and more, but that's a different story.  This story is about a phone call, one that I still think of every December 28th.  Sometimes, one simple little phone call can change everything.

Merry Christmas!

For everyone who celebrates and everyone who doesn't, I hope today is filled with family, friends, love and good times.

 I hope today is a wonderful escape from our hectic day-to-day lives and that we are able to remember the things that are really important to us.

I hope that if you asked for a pony for Christmas, you got a pony.  If not, I hope your pony comes along real soon.

I hope you have fun and enjoy whatever it is you're doing today.

 My Christmas Pony many years ago...

Merry Christmas!

My Horsey Christmas List

Dear Santa,

This year for Christmas, I find that my wish list (aside from World Peace and family health) is filled with practical mundane must-haves.  I could tell you about how I need new barn shoes because the soles of mine have finely parted from the rest and I'm getting sand in my shoes, or that my string gloves are more hole than glove, that I need a new keeper for the strap on my helmet, or that I'm dreaming of new breeches that accommodate my ever-expanding thighs, but that wouldn't be fun for either of us.

Instead please find enclosed what my list might look like if I weren't a poor college student with an extreme lack of money.  Or you know, feel free to steal these ideas for other equestrian's on your list!

1. This adorable custom plush pony. Allright, I guess you could argue, Santa, that I'm not a baby and maybe a little too old, but look how cute it is! I almost want my siblings to have kids just so I can buy them each one of these plushies.

From monpetitamourbaby

2. I have to give Chronicle of the Horse the credit for finding this one. I love everything about these: love the idea of taken Breyers that have seen better days and repurposing them, love the concept, and love that they come in different prices in case you can't afford a big one.

From HoundstoothDesign

3.  Credit goes again to COTH and I doubt I could convince my boyfriend to put this behind our bed, but again I would have loved one of these as a kid.  Furthermore, I wish I had thought of this idea as an adult.  Kudos to go to mjoydesign for creative thinking!

Again, by mjoydesign

4. I like this shirt. a lot.  Though I have to say, a horse doesn't have to be a show horse to be wonderful.

For $22.00 from RefineryShop

5. Yes, I still color and yes I love these.

For $20.40 from RedElmDesigns

6. For some jewelry: I love the Scandinavian Dala Horses.

For $35 from TheClayPony

Moving away from Etsy (though I do love it a lot)...

7.This is purely traditional for me, as I try to get one every year that I can (although I don't remember them being quite so expensive!).

For $59.99 From Breyer

8. Dana's Doodles has a lot of cute designs and options but this one is my favorite because it embodies how I always viewed my horse, and what a great idea for a stall sign!

For $29.99 from Dana's Doddles

9.  Sometimes, as a horse person I find I have to rein in (sorry) my enthusiasm when it comes to other aspects of my life. It can be so easy to see something that I would otherwise think was tacky and buy it simply because it has a horse on it, but that's not the case with the totally adorable and tasteful apron. 

For $36.99 from ModCloth

10. All right, so technically I already have this book, but it totally was on my wish list until someone gave it to me for my birthday, so that counts, right? I can't wait to read it!

Hardcover for $16.59 from Amazon

In closing, Santa, I hope you know that a horse is always on my list and you wouldn't even have to gift wrap him!

Love,

EquestriAnnie

Abby

In the past, I've written about two of my favorite horses, Eddie and the Hony Mare, who were instrumental in my horse career. Well now, I'd like to talk about the first equine in my life and I even have a photo to share:

This is Abby, or my Nanny Pony as I sometimes call her.  She wasn't technically mine at any point, but in my heart she was and always will be mine.  You can't see the halo in this picture, but no doubt about it, Abby was a saint.

She was the sweetest, sanest, most dependable pony there ever was.  My dad tells me that she was so safe, that when he was teaching, he would help me tack her up and then throw me up on her in the indoor arena.  He told me he would close all the doors and gates and then go teach a student in the outdoor arena, periodically checking on me to make sure I was ok.  There was never, not once, a mishap.

I would give Abby a little thump with my tiny heels every once in a while, and she would oblige me with a couple of steps of jog, before slowing to her sedate and steady walk.  I remember riding in the indoor telling Abby stories where she and I were on wild adventures together or I'd sing to her the little nonsensical songs I came up with in my precocious childhood.

Abby was my very first best friend and I could not have asked for a better one.   She listened to me for hours on end (no mean feat) and gave me a sense of independence. Those few years of having Abby as my nanny were truly awesome.  However, eventually my parents told me that Abby's owners had taken her back.

It wasn't until two years ago that my naivete vanished a little and I figure out what had really happened. Although, I suppose depending on your religious views, that's exactly what happened.  It certainly does comfort me to think that Abby, Jack and now Eddie, the horses who took such great care of me in life, are still keeping an eye on me from a better place.

I hope that every little girl who dreams of horses gets to have an Abby in her life.  While they are a bit more expensive, ponies like her truly make great babysitters!