Who I Choose to be.

If, as a teenager, someone had said to me, "I think you might be a strong female role model someday", they would have received that withering look I mastered all too early. (A strong anything was outside my imagination quite frankly) Mentioning the idea of being a teacher would have gotten you a kick in the shin. Yet I find myself in the awkward position of being both.

This point was driven home to me a couple of months ago as I was telling an off-hand story about my computer breaking. The guy who fixed it put some software on my computer that he thought I had but didn't. Something for nothing.

At the end of the story, I turned around to see my young student staring at me. Sponge in hand. Small black pony behind her.

Something for nothing. Stealing. No big deal by society standards.. But had she actually been listening? I could hear countless possible conversations between her and her parents...

My awareness was heightened. These kids are my students. The learning does not necessarily begin and end with horses. I am a teacher. Responsibility... It was a longer than usual drive home that night as so many thoughts boiled in my brain. I began to see my job in a totally new and much larger and brighter light.

There is a group of kids now in the world for whom I will forever be their "first riding instructor." When, hopefully, they are introducing their children to horses for the first time, they might reminisce about "Miss Sarah" and Bramblewood Stables. My name will be alongside Max, Choo or Lady as their first riding experience. I have the ability to craft that person and shape that experience.

Of course, perception plays into things. You can say the exact same words to two different students and one will think you a monster while the other sees you as just silly. Besides that, I am always me, somewhat awkward and nutty, tripping over poles and losing track of words. Sometimes losing my students in the ring for a moment because they walked behind me and my big hat. There are choices I can make, however, about how I present myself to my students and their parents.

Strong (or positive) female role model. Am I just being arrogant thinking that I could hold that kind of title?

I don't believe so. I believe that anytime you  are doing something that the people (especially kids) around you want to do and be a part of you automatically become a strong positive or negative role model. We have plenty of negative role models to observe. Most people probably get there by not caring and not choosing who they want to be to the world.

I am trying to actively choose the other. I want to be a positive influence in the lives around me. What does it mean to be a strong female role model? Does it mean that you are invincible? Know everything and are always right? Able to lift gigantic piles of horse poop and shavings with one hand tied behind your back? Not by my reckoning. To me it means:

I care about you (my students) and the world around me.I think the world is big and beautiful! I am not afraid to express my enthusiasm about the world that I live in. Horses are a part of that world. They are fun, exciting and wonderful teachers in their own right. They are also dangerous. Be patient. If you try to get to a goal quickly you are more likely to be hurt. Then you will walk away and lose this incredible gift of a life with horses. I don't want that for you.

I'm far from perfect and it's ok that you know. I fail but I try to fix it. I have bad days and I will be straight up about it if I'm in the midst of one. Kids need to know you fail or are sad or unhappy but that you can overcome and achieve in spite of it..

I'm not too proud to learn about my craft from 6 year olds during their first lesson or from taking lessons with people who have been in the business much longer than me. You never stop learning.  

I am living proof that it is never too late to achieve a dream you were never brave enough to dream. 
 
I consider each of the students under my care as precious cargo, even on the days they drive me crazy. I want them to know they are part of a world that is so much bigger than they understand but that they are still important.

For some reason, I got the idea growing up that most of my answers would be wrong and my opinions were unimportant. (Nobody knows why - God know I have the most wonderful and encouraging set of parents on the face of the earth, but there it is.) I had a  tendency to be shy, sharing my world and true self with a few friends that I felt really comfortable around. (Some may not believe that because they will only remember the silly moments but they didn't know how terrified I was almost every time I spoke).

So now I listen. If for some unknown reason my student thinks it's important for me to know about their favorite toy, that scratch on their dog's back, how their brother or sister kept them up late or that their grandpa watches a lot of TV then it's important for me to try to tune in and acknowledge their voice. I am a teacher and possible role model. They need to know that what they think about and say is worth hearing.

Not that I always succeed. It's not that easy. But I try.

I know some parents probably see us chatting and worry about how they are paying for their son or daughter to learn how to ride. Well, they'll learn to ride. I promise. It may take longer than you want but they'll get there.

They just might pick up some other things along the way.

Lesson Learned in a Lesson

Today was lesson two in the weekly series of lessons I plan on taking until the beginning of June. What a difference it makes to have someone else creating the exercise and changing it if necessary, to get instant feedback (whether it be compliment or critique) and to know you can settle into the process because this isn't your one shot to get as much as you can... that it will not be 3-6 months before you get anymore concentrated feedback (unless you are willing to interrupt some poor slubs lesson:/ guilty.)

It was so nice to feel the progression as Kim corrected, suggested and encouraged. And how beautiful to talk about what you felt and be able to ask questions and laugh about the weird things that might happen in the course of an hour.

One of the things I've been battling with Matilda recently is a short attention span. After half hour in the ring she would start to stumble and pop shoulders and head toss... to me, indications of loss of focus for one reason or another...

Today, as I began expounding on something like my 6th topic in twenty minutes ... well, Squirrel! What was I saying?

Most animals, horses included, become, in part at least, reflections of their rider; they mirror their riders focus, stiffness, fear, tension, softness, etc. I just had to laugh as I realized that Matilda's attention issues were mine as well! It helps to have eyes on the ground identifying where you have become the problem.

Then it helps to laugh at yourself.

Ride time by yourself is important, too, but I really do need more than 1 lesson every 6 months if I want to keep growing as a rider. I am looking forward to May.

The Journey is Long and Crooked

It would be really hard for me to describe the last few months; I think that the following email I wrote to my sister is a good summary of events. Written about a month ago, I have to say that I was not happy when I wrote it and it includes some exaggeration and hyperbole that I can see reading it back now. I don’t want to edit it so take it with a grain of salt:  

And so you do know you are never alone in your struggles, I will further explain my Matilda 'vaguebook' from the other day.

Basically I haven't had many solid rides with her since DECEMBER. I wasn't riding in January due to scheduling and she was being used for a college class we had going on. We all started noticing that her steering was going out by the end of January. I thought she just needed a good ride with an energy burn and we did that... but that wasn't it. I can't remember exactly when that last big bolt happened but along with that I have had refusals to move, head tossing, throwing the head down, attempts to drag me into the center of the ring, inability to bend, inability to straighten.... you get my drift. We have come to the point where our rides were more fights than anything, I was trying to strong arm her into things and I truly did not like who I was as a rider with her. A lot of our rides ended up with me totally dejected and in tears. I really felt like I had totally failed her.

March is here and things have changed. She is in heat, which we suspected was part of the problem, and I think there has been a hormone release from everything that builds up during the winter. It made things better but certainly hasn't fixed things. Still have the head tosses and she's added some bucks into the mix.

Oh, did I mention that she was taken almost completely out of the schooling program b/c she has been deemed almost completely unride-able? Her one student is someone who loves her and would rather just walk with her than push with anyone else.... talk about failure.

This week I felt the first signs that things are changing. Even so it has been hit or miss. Half hour rides with lots of meandering and three - ten steps of trot. Occasionally making it around the ring. We can't even attempt a crossrail (she drags me to it and bolts upon landing) say nothing of actually cantering.

Today I went back to the hackamore, a 'bitless' bit... all the way back to the beginning. Today was our first day with it and she was much better. Nowhere near where we were but it partly confirms our suspicion that something in her mouth may be the problem. It will take time to really tell.

I've learned so much in the last year, I can feel how unbalanced she is and where she has serious muscle weakness. I understand some things better. I pushed too hard too fast for my ability and now we have to go all the way back in order to go forward.

Frustrating. Trial and error. Going back to go forward. Wow. This got long. Guess I had things to share.

Matilda Back in her Hackamore

You could put the word “maybe” or “possibly” in front of a lot of those sentences that sound absolute. In my efforts to make things better I have changed saddles, shortened our rides, spent more time in grooming… the changes are numerous and it is hard to say what actually helped or if it was just a natural ebb and flow. So many variables.

We continue to work at a much slower pace than previously. I try to keep the focus on helping her create balance and muscle memory in the basics so that we can move forward. We are working again, though and we have reached a point where I can work on improving my riding skills with her.

In the frustrating days, I started to ride another horse from time to time so that I could both enjoy riding and work on ‘my stuff’ rather than always focusing on how to get Matilda going again. I have gotten a lot out of riding Sheba and am now trying to bring what she has taught me back to Matilda. I may write more about my time with Sheba in another post.

She's so beautiful.

I could go on and on about these last few months. I have spent more time than anyone could imagine pondering Matilda: breaking down every second we spent together, trying to figure out if I have done something wrong, is it the weather, the bit, the saddle?  On and on it has gone.

We’re figuring it out together, slowly but surely, with the Kim’s help. She has listened patiently to a lot of my frustration, excitement… she has heard every story with patience and humor. I am committed to weekly lessons with her until summer begins so that she can watch and suggest and continue to listen and support. Kim’s cool.

Don’t think that everything has been “sturm und drang”. Matilda and I have been having a lot of fun. I discovered and nurtured her fondness for bananas; she gets at least half of every banana I bring to the barn. I tried to give her a cat but the cat would not stay with her. I spend countless hours with her in her stall or in her paddock: grooming her, scratching her itchy spots or watching her sleep.

In spite of or because of everything, I love her more and more. Don’t worry about that one. :)

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (Story Time!)

So many foolish things I say. So many things should remain unsaid.

In my last post, I talked about how solid Matilda is and how I don't need to ride her as much. I was true to my word and significantly reduced my riding in November, December and January. Reports of quickness and shoulders popping came in with phrases like "her power steering has gone out". My ego would like to think that she was missing our rides and somehow crying out for me (we joked a little that she must have read my post and disagreed with me) but the reality is that she is young and still relatively new to the life of a school horse. We seemed to have reached the point where she began testing boundaries and discovering.... ummmm.... how to challenge inexperienced riders (to put it kindly).

Due to an exceptionally heavy lesson schedule, I had no time to ride until the end of January. I watched her in lessons and felt an explosion of some sort was inevitable. Time for me to put riding Matilda back on my regular schedule.

The first few rides were remarkable in their uneventfulness. They felt exactly like our rides in November. I remember watching her get quick in one of Kim's lessons and saying something to the effect of 'I'm just not getting that from her. Why won't she explode with me? I'm waiting for an explosion and getting just the same old ride.' Famous last words.

It had to be a short ride on Tuesday which meant no time for our usual warm up, involving a series of adapted yoga poses for me to balance and breathe ultimately connecting my breath to my movement then to her movement as we bend, twist and open up our spine and ribs together. We did take a moment for me to goof off and see if I could pull off a pose that I envisioned over the weekend:

She looks relaxed and happy there, doesn't she?

The ride began normally; at some point I pressed her off the rail and then pressed her back to the rail (I can't remember why) and in that simple moment everything changed. Matilda was 'up'. Her trot was fast and huge; her neck and head, usually stretched out with her nose attempting to drag on the ground, was high so that I had to keep shortening my reins in order to keep contact with her mouth. It was as if a switch had flipped and I knew I had found the ride I had been waiting for- the one that would give her the energy burn that I felt she needed and that was inevitable.

I got around to asking for a canter on the left.  It started with a head toss and came fast and huge. It was a canter on the edge but a true 3 beat canter and she was with me and I felt comfortable and in control. This was the explosion that I knew was coming. As I defined explosion. Before. How naive.

We took a break as Kim finished up a lesson (Kim, her adult student on a pony and 2 other girls who were job shadowing that day were in the ring). I asked to have the rail so that I could have a canter on the right.

The trot on the right, leading up to the canter departure, was even more jacked up with some head tosses thrown in for good measure. I had a very particular spot in the ring where I wanted to ask for that canter. I kept my leg on and used deep half-halts... I remember laughingly saying 'I think I'll keep my reins super short!' I began to sink, closing my seat to ask for the canter and *POW* in the blink of an eye, I was on a runaway freight train....

Here I must pause as the story breaks into 2 parts. As with any panicky, emergency situation my brain was processing so much and on different levels: primarily what I was doing and what I was feeling in Matilda. As happens in these situations, however, the timeline is fractured so I must fracture the story. I know how I would like to believe things linked up but I am not certain. You will understand as things unfold....

I was on a runaway freight train. From the first couple of steps it was clear this was different. Not a couple of steps of craziness before settling into a canter, we were in deep. My brain shut off. Typical. Tipped forward in the corner. Lost a stirrup. I cannot recite the initial thoughts because they would not be appropriate for my audience. The upshot of my thinking, as I found myself tipped forward onto her neck, was 'grab mane and just hold on!' Kim had stepped into our path, becoming a human barricade in an effort to slow Matilda down, thankfully leaving us room to pass along the rail. There was no slowing her down at this point but as I passed my dear Kim, I heard her yell 'SIT UP!' I did and  found my reins were in my hands. I had not lost them and I still had contact.

I wish I had an MRI of my brain at this point because I KNOW it started firing. Big time. Hold, half-halt, use your leg, press her into your hands, deeper half-halt... then I heard my own voice, Obi-wan Kenobi style, 'RELAX! DON'T GRIP WITH YOUR KNEE! BREATHE!' I breathed. I felt my hips open and my seat deepen. There was that subtle shift as my legs wrapped around her body instead of digging into her sides...


At the start, I was on a runaway freight train: What was I feeling from Matilda? A true freight train. Full speed ahead. Pedal to the metal. Unyielding and unforgiving. Hold? Half-halt? Squeeze? Like trying to knead iron or stone.

After one lap around the ring, all of a sudden, it changed. I felt her become a living, breathing animal under me. We were still galloping; the shape of her body had not changed but everything had changed....

I like to think those 2 events were linked but I don't know. I do know that as those 2 moments unfolded I saw Kim start to move into our path again and I had found my voice. 'I GOT IT!' I called to her with complete conviction. In that moment, I was certain that my balance and position were good and I had her, that this was going to end well and that I was not going to be picking sand out of my teeth for the rest of the day. I knew it deep down.

My voice now found, I started to talk to Matilda, 'Whooooaa....' again and again. I felt those first steps of true canter and encouraged it, not wanting to come down too suddenly, until I heard 'I would feel much better if your foot was in that stirrup!' Yes, my friends, I was still riding with one stirrup. Trot, walk, grins, breathing, laughter. I was still in the saddle. Miracles.

My lesson wasn't over. I couldn't leave the ride there. I picked up another trot and found Matilda still jacked up! If this was about unused energy, our run would have taken the edge off. There is something else, something more fundamental or elemental going on here. No way I was going to ask for another canter transition at this point so I put her on a tiny trot circle instead. After (what felt like) 10 circles I felt something like the same change I had felt before... a softening perhaps? I put her on the rail and we had a nice, even -paced trot around the ring. Ride over. Content. No more.

Questions abound: What caused this? There are so many variables: hormones, seasons, weather extremes, no warm up.... Is that explosion inevitable or can I ride smarter and get to the other side without 'AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!'? Right now, I don't know. Time will tell.

I do know I gained a lot from that ride: information, knowledge, things to ponder and consider, feelings....

I can still 'feel' that change from machine to life when I think back. That is something I want to treasure always. I don't understand why it is important but my gut tells me it is vital. I will remember it,treasure it, ponder it deep within my heart.

There are more discoveries just around the corner. Some have been uncovered and will be shared in the next post but some are hidden, holding their breath and waiting to be uncovered.

I am riding, working. The adventure of the Matilda project continues....

All Grown Up

Wow. Almost 2 months since my birthday post. There were stories to tell but I've forgotten most of them because I am a bad blogger. I do remember this one though:

Matilda earned the code name "Nonplussed" a while back simply because nothing seems to bother her. Not even her foot getting stuck in a bucket. Towards the end of the summer, the guy who works at the barn came into the office with a bemused look on his face and told us that Matilda's foot was stuck in her water bucket... her water bucket that was affixed to the wall at her shoulder height. (We're still not 100% sure how she could get her foot all the way up there) Kim and Rachel raced around to her stall, concerned that she might panic, begin to thrash or go into shock if left in that position to long. We reached her stall to find her standing calmly, her leg extended nearly straight out in front of her with her foot in her water bucket. The three of us moved around her cautiously, attempting to lift her leg up, attempting to lift the bucket off of its hook, attempting to unscrew the hook from the wall, one of us occasionally muttering "Be careful" or "Look out for your toes" as we waited for panic to set in. All the while she stood there, breathing quietly, her leg extended nearly straight out in front of her with her foot in her water bucket, looking at us as if to say, "ummm, guys, my foot is stuck in this here bucket." Rachel finally grabbed a lead rope and we were able to wrap it under her leg enabling us to lift it up just enough to get the bucket off the hook. Her foot and the bucket came down to the ground together while we moved quickly back telling each other "move out of the way" "look out!", in case she freaked out as the bucket clattered to the ground or if her foot was asleep or whatever. She simply stepped out of the bucket, turned around and looked out the window, "I don't know what you guys were worried about. My foot was in a bucket. I knew you'd get it out."

Such is life with Matilda. She remains quiet, grounded and largely unflappable. Yeah, she can be quick and she might give a head toss and try to run away, if you aren't paying attention, but even in that she is manageable and listens to instruction.

With the beginning of fall, I wanted to focus more on her personal care. Up until now, I have kept it simple just doing some basic grooming whenever I rode but it is time to dig a little deeper and take more responsibility for other aspects of her well being. To this end, I am adding small things to our routine like putting on a hoof strengthener once a week and attempting to keep an abscess clean (she's got one under her chin that's been there for years, never getting better or worse.) On a more irregular basis it involves keeping her mane pulled and her tail cleaned and conditioned. I attempted to train her mane to lie on one side of her neck by braiding it but within a couple of days it had flopped back. I will try again later but do not have high hopes of success.

Over the fall and winter, I hope to get her more comfortable with clippers so that she is better prepared for trimming in the spring. It took Rachel and I over an hour to do her face last spring. I think it tickles.

And so we continue on. I love riding Matilda, love spending time with her. I work on my jumping position, her straightness, softening my seat and slowing/strengthening her canter... but the fact of it is that Matilda is all grown up. She is fully involved in the life of the barn and I have come to the realization that she doesn't need me to ride her anymore. She is a well-loved school horse now, being used in one to three lessons each day. Her riders range from pre-teens to adults; beginners have had their very first ride on her and more advanced students are working with her consistently in weekly lessons. I see her throughout the week working through all kinds of softening, extending or jumping lessons under Kim or Rachel. Her riders seem to adore her and she takes care of them.

A bittersweet realization. I sort of want to think that she will fall apart and go crazy if I'm not her constant, if I'm not holding her together. That's just not the case. She'll be quick some days, lazy on others, like all the other horses but my gut is telling me she's solid. She's certainly got more to learn; they are things that she can learn in her lessons with other riders, not necessarily me. She's not my horse, but truly a Bramblewood Horse.

                                        Bittersweet indeed, but I am so very proud of her.

Year 38: The Year of Faith

I turned 38 on Saturday. Last year, I skulked into 37, my typical shrinking violet, hoping that no one would notice while secretly waiting for someone to make me feel special. Incongruous. My new favorite watchword. Honestly, despite my skulking and weird feelings about turning 37, it was a really awesome year. Highlights included:

 

getting a tattoo

                                           
                                                                                         

losing 40 lbs,





 converting to Catholicism

                                                             

feeling my first buck (in memoriam, Plum),


riding Matilda and throwing myself full force into the life of Bramblewood Stables.





With all that amazing-ness there was the odd realization of simply growing older. I grew up a baby sister in a family of first borns, was one of the younger members of my schooling class, married an older man and just always seemed drawn to people older than myself. I've always been the youngest, the baby. This summer, sitting around the barn talking to my colleagues and some of the girls that are always there in the summer, I suddenly realized I was the oldest one there (even if just by 6 weeks). How did that happen?!? It was a bit of a shock and it's taken me some time to get over myself.... I may not be there yet....

I've also been reading "Tao of Equus", a fascinating book that sort of lays out the mysticism and spirit of the horse, drawing a lot from myth and legend among other things. The book lays the foundation for a method of equine assisted psychotherapy and it is where I picked up my new favorite word, incongruous The author uses it to describe words or behaviors that are out of sync with how we actually feel (like telling people you are fine when you are angry, sad or worried, JENN) and it has impacted me greatly. I've been making a great attempt of late to understand and express my own true feelings.... express them better than I have in the past, at least.

Thinking about my last birthday, the amazing year of 37 and my past incongruous behavior, I decided I wanted to share my enthusiasm for the coming year and so I told everyone about my birthday! Store clerks, students, waiters and jazz musicians. Oh the reward! Gifts, cakes, congratulations on my 25th :D, 'Take 5' played for me, general happiness and a birthday ride (basically cantering while you scream BIRTHDAY RIDE!!! WOOT WOOT!!!) to name a few of the joys of the day. What a lesson in sharing yourself with the people in your world.

And so I continue to look back at the accomplishments of the year and move forward into the next, even as I strive to reduce the incongruent behaviors in my life (how many times can I use the word?? It's wonderful to say out loud too) and since this is supposed to be a blog about barn life:

I feel I have completed my goals for this first year teaching at the barn (well, as much as one can in an ever-evolving environment) namely building my student base, increasing my presence (going from 'who does she think she is?' to 'Miss Sarah, do you think it would be ok if I....?') and getting a decent handle on the day to day workings and priorities of the barn as a whole.

This year will see a shift in my priorities as I look to create a more in depth plan for Matilda's day to day care and grooming, hopefully take more riding lessons but most importantly search out and begin preparing for instructor certification which feels long over due. I know there are some significant gaps in my knowledge of the horse (the kind of information that will catch you up on a test) that will require some extra time spent with my nose in a book. I can't say as I am looking forward to getting back in the habit of studying, but at least I am fascinated by the subject:)

Right now I am looking at getting my certification in biomechanics. Lots of detail about posture and position and how small things impact our, and therefore our horse's, balance. I think this will fit well with my new found understanding of the spirit of the horse. Think of the powerful combination and possibility of the deep spiritual bond between horse and rider grounded in the physical reality of how our bodies impact each other. I am excited about it!

My next post will be about Matilda, I have stories to tell. I just wanted to take a moment and share some things from me, my plans and my joys of the season. I have an amazing job with fabulous friends, an amazing husband and an amazing faith! It's going to be a great year!

Everything's Shrinking! (Even as My World Expands)

"Summertime and the living is easy." - Porgy and Bess

What a lie! Summertime means soaring temperatures, constant re-scheduling and summer camps. There's nothing easy about it. Enter the micro-ride: My new term for squeezing in 15-40 minutes with Matilda whenever I can. She actually seems to enjoy them. They consist of 5-10 minute warm up and cool down periods with 10-20 minutes of walk, trot, canter and/or jumping depending on the day and how we feel.
There's been a lot going on for us since my last post two months ago. For a while it seemed that the whole falling apart into a rushy canter (what I considered running away with me) was becoming a semi-regular happening. It happened just enough to become, happily, a non-event rather than some kind of epic life altering moment.

I discovered, however, that there is a fine line between confidence and stupidity the day that I had a beautiful ride on Matilda; one I wanted to end with a few steps of canter. As soon as I asked, she fell apart and raced down the side of the arena. I brought her down to a trot but let it make me mad- I really wanted those steps of canter. So I asked again, more racing, brought her down and then asked again to be met with more racing. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew this was not working but I was really proud of myself for not freaking out and panicking. It was when I saw that Kim had left her young student to help me that I came to my senses and realized that for all intents and purposes I was continually asking Matilda to be slightly out of control. She just wasn't with me on this one. I was riding through it fine (confidence) but she wasn't learning what it was I actually wanted and I was positioning us for an accident (stupidity). I stopped what I was doing at that point and decided to take a moment to think through what was going on and strategize my next move.

In stepping back and mentally reviewing what had been happening over the course of several weeks, I saw that, when I asked for a canter transition, Matilda was giving me a nice canter or a rushy run off depending on her frame of mind but not necessarily distinguishing the two. My sense was that I was not effectively communicating to her which was right, which was what I wanted, so I was getting whatever she was in the mood to throw at me. The question I had to ask myself was how to tell her very clearly which one I actually wanted?

I had to go back to the beginning of course: the click. I had been hesitant to use the click for the canter because I envisioned her picking up a canter, me clicking, followed by an abrupt stop (to get her reward) as I flew not so gracefully over her head. The prospect made me nervous to say the least. I was also concerned that I would create a habit for her of taking a step of canter then immediately stopping. This didn't happen with the trot so I'm not really sure why I thought it would happen here. Just nerves. Higher stakes.

The day came to try and she felt good. We did a lot of walk/trot work, a lot of listening exercises and she was with me. I finally asked for the canter and got the one I wanted. After about 5 smooth steps, I clicked and watched her ears flip back as I squeezed the reins and she slowed gently. We did the same thing going in the other direction. That day I think we repeated the exercise one more time in each direction before beginning our cool down.

I don't ask for a lot of canter. Only when I feel like we are really in sync, like she is really listening and we are moving together... simpatico. Since that day, the first day I clicked for the canter, every time I have asked for it, I have gotten it. Beautifully.

These days when we canter, I can add leg to keep her going through a corner, or half halts, to slow her down, without the canter breaking down into a trot or rushing forward. We are getting a little more control, a little better balance, each time we try. Sometimes I click and reward, sometimes I don't, just to keep things interesting.

Poor Baby

It's hard work and my little drama queen let's me know how she would prefer to spend her time. This is after a "grueling" 30 minute ride. She just couldn't hold herself up any longer I suppose.

In addition, Matilda and I have been working on our jumping together. I took a loooong hiatus from working on jumping and am slowly easing my way back into it one small step at a time. Matilda is a natural and a good teacher, carrying me easily and allowing me to make my mistakes as my body tries to remember how to hold itself and when to release. All in all, we are just having a blast together... when we have time together.

 

And now, I would like to introduce you to Plum. She is an adorable pony that I am trying to take on. She has been ridden and trained for years by a brilliant teenager who is going away this fall to an equestrian school. Plum is still too quick to enter the schooling program. She needs to be ridden and worked and have her education continued as she learns to listen and slows herself down. Kim has agreed to let me work with her and I am thrilled at the prospect. If I can do anything like what I have been able to do with my sweet Matilda, this experience, my philosophies and entire life up to this point will be affirmed. HA! That's a little too much weight for this little one to carry but you get my drift.

I was more excited the week before last however. Between camp and storms I only rode each horse about 20 minutes all week. Kind of takes the excitement out of a new job when there is no time to do the work for 2-3 weeks. It'll happen and I think I am really going to be able to help Plum make the transition to a school horse. I can't wait to try, that's for sure!!

During my few times on Plum, I've discovered that she is super quick and not so good at listening to me. Then she reminded me I have to breathe and helped me to understand that I need to focus on her and what we are doing - not allow myself to get so introspective and over-analyze while I am riding. She's got so much to teach me. I know that already.

Last week, while I wasn't riding, I spent some time relaxing in the paddock watching Matilda and giving her good scratches or simply trying to gain Plum's trust. That one needs some work. I enjoyed sitting back and watching Matilda's creativity and suppleness as she reached under the fence for that grass.

This week should provide more opportunities for riding and maybe there will be more stories to share! Until next time~ Shorter rides, smaller horses: Big opportunities!