My First Ever Affair....
I had a riding lesson the other day; a riding lesson over fences that made me go "Oooff-umph-FUCK" a number of times. I think my coach was a little offended at one point. I'm starting to realize that in normal social settings, the F-word isn't one that should come out simultaneously with every other word.
My coach offered me a lesson at her house because she thought that Zydo had a little too much life for me. Which is really one of the best compliments a person can give because A) He's seventeen frickin' years old and he still has some life in him and B) I have yet to be pitched into the dirt.
I rode a Chestnut Trakheiner named Stetson, which is a wonderful name for a horse and I'm kind of pissed that I didn't think of it myself. Like that Taylor Swift song, 'Teardrops on My Guitar'. Like, HOW did I not think of that and get famous before her?! Sheesh.
My lesson on Stetson was wonderful, mostly because I stayed with one leg on either side of the horse despite a crazed canine leaping after Stetson's tail in the ring. We circled three times with this dog charging around us like a mad thing, and oddly? I stayed in the saddle, did not wring the dog's neck, and did not develop a case of hives.
I felt like I should have gotten a medal.
As soon as I got home from my lesson, I had a totally irrational urge to wash my breeches, scrub my boots, and burn the shirt I was wearing because I was certain that Zydo would smell the unfamiliar horse and know that I had strayed from him. Of course, washing, scrubbing and burning would have required the expenditure of energy, and that is not one of my strong points.
I'm going to be working on lessons regularly throughout the summer and I even have a tentative show schedule set up. I'll just be going in some amateur competitions, to see if horse and rider can remain as one with an audience, a judge, and an objective for a period of three to five minutes. The goal itself seems simple enough, but in reality? Putting it all together and keeping it that way under the scrutiny of professionals?
Ouch.
Other points of interest:
-- I am still working thirty hours at one location and forty hours at another each week. I hope one day to only have to go to one location, and that day should be on or around the sixth of June.
-- I am doing only one week of berry season this year; the Berry Queen assures me that the dude she hired to run berries hither and yon is quite attractive, blonde, and tall.
-- Zydo has an abscess on his foot, and my father is once more soaking it in a mixture of epsom salts and breakfast cereal. Since it worked last time, I'm going to have faith that it will work again this time.
-- My bedroom has become such a disaster that my mother and a cousin have both offered their services to clean it. I'm fresh out of socks, but the hum of the dryer in the background as I type brings me comfort.
My coach offered me a lesson at her house because she thought that Zydo had a little too much life for me. Which is really one of the best compliments a person can give because A) He's seventeen frickin' years old and he still has some life in him and B) I have yet to be pitched into the dirt.
I rode a Chestnut Trakheiner named Stetson, which is a wonderful name for a horse and I'm kind of pissed that I didn't think of it myself. Like that Taylor Swift song, 'Teardrops on My Guitar'. Like, HOW did I not think of that and get famous before her?! Sheesh.
My lesson on Stetson was wonderful, mostly because I stayed with one leg on either side of the horse despite a crazed canine leaping after Stetson's tail in the ring. We circled three times with this dog charging around us like a mad thing, and oddly? I stayed in the saddle, did not wring the dog's neck, and did not develop a case of hives.
I felt like I should have gotten a medal.
As soon as I got home from my lesson, I had a totally irrational urge to wash my breeches, scrub my boots, and burn the shirt I was wearing because I was certain that Zydo would smell the unfamiliar horse and know that I had strayed from him. Of course, washing, scrubbing and burning would have required the expenditure of energy, and that is not one of my strong points.
I'm going to be working on lessons regularly throughout the summer and I even have a tentative show schedule set up. I'll just be going in some amateur competitions, to see if horse and rider can remain as one with an audience, a judge, and an objective for a period of three to five minutes. The goal itself seems simple enough, but in reality? Putting it all together and keeping it that way under the scrutiny of professionals?
Ouch.
Other points of interest:
-- I am still working thirty hours at one location and forty hours at another each week. I hope one day to only have to go to one location, and that day should be on or around the sixth of June.
-- I am doing only one week of berry season this year; the Berry Queen assures me that the dude she hired to run berries hither and yon is quite attractive, blonde, and tall.
-- Zydo has an abscess on his foot, and my father is once more soaking it in a mixture of epsom salts and breakfast cereal. Since it worked last time, I'm going to have faith that it will work again this time.
-- My bedroom has become such a disaster that my mother and a cousin have both offered their services to clean it. I'm fresh out of socks, but the hum of the dryer in the background as I type brings me comfort.
posted by Amanda at 21:14
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