On the heels of yesterday's post about movies, I saw War Horse today. I'm not going to spoil it (I got spoiled). It has the usual themes, lovable protagonists, great scenery. The dude who plays Joey's owner is pretty good-looking. That gave me pause. Wait? How old is he supposed to be? Am I a pervert? I got all distracted by that and then lost myself in pretty horsey scenes.
The dude who plays his Dad (drunken, damaged) resembles the father from a Knight's Tale. Maybe it's the same actor? Or is the old guy who turns up later the Knight's Tale guy? No matter. The film, though it's designed to stir your emotions, does not have a romance subplot shoe-horned in there! Yay! Damn refreshing, if you ask me.
If you have to take a trip to the can mid-movie (I typically do but didn't today), don't miss the part with the plucky young French girl. Squeeze your knees together, and do your Kegels, or you'll miss some of the best lines of the movie. Adorbs! I don't use that word often and I know it's a stupid word, but no other word would do.
My eyes watered but there was no tear spillage. I'm a movie crier, so today was a one-off. I have ugly-cried at a movie within the past year and didn't want to repeat THAT performance.
The most saddening thing is that, to me, horses marching into war parallel the marching of horses into slaughter. So it follows, then, that anyone crying at War Horse would be anti-slaughter? And if you're anti-slaughter, you shouldn't be eating meat? I have some ideas that reconcile these themes. They don't involve strict vegetarianism or anything. It's a topic for another day.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
All I Ever Got Confused About I Learned from Movies
Last night I was watching a really gross romantic comedy while I waited for a funnier movie to start on another channel. Love, love, love. All these movies I've been watching since childhood revolve around love. This indoctrinated me with some messy ideas like "the surly guy secretly has a heart of gold", and "you jump, I jump" and "love conquers all." Insert archetypes as needed. When I entered the dating world my expectations were crazy, just crazy.
Horse books/movies do it too. In National Velvet, Velvet is coached by the curmudgeonly Mickey Rooney. In The Black Stallion, Alec is coached by the still adorably grouchy Mickey Rooney. In Sylvester, a grizzled old coot is caught schooling haute ecole in the moonlight.
It's all very wax on, wax off.
(Mr. Miyagi using chopsticks to demonstrate how to perform a half-halt)
It wasn't long before I came to associate crabby/crusty with knowledge. But sometimes under the crusty exterior there's just even more manure.
The entertainment value, of course, is infinite. There was the barn owner who thought ground manners were optional and wanted me to do turn in/ turn out of her (Brontosaurus Equus) warmblood herd. One day she admitted, in hushed tones, that even she was a little afraid of the worst offender. There was the bra-optional lady who made me ride in a western saddle with miles-long stirrups that just wouldn't adjust. There was the hoarder obsessed with goats.
There's even one I've never met - a horse trainer in my area that used to own my dog before he found his way into our home. Have you ever seen a hundred pound dog cringe at everyday things like brooms and hoses? I have. So, my fate has been sealed. I'm already a bit eccentric and crusty too I guess. Next stop, crazy! If I ever cross paths with that walking turd of a trainer, I will go crazy. Foaming at the mouth, get-in-the-ring crazy. Anything less, I imagine, would be un-equestrian.
Horse books/movies do it too. In National Velvet, Velvet is coached by the curmudgeonly Mickey Rooney. In The Black Stallion, Alec is coached by the still adorably grouchy Mickey Rooney. In Sylvester, a grizzled old coot is caught schooling haute ecole in the moonlight.
It's all very wax on, wax off.
(Mr. Miyagi using chopsticks to demonstrate how to perform a half-halt)It wasn't long before I came to associate crabby/crusty with knowledge. But sometimes under the crusty exterior there's just even more manure.
The entertainment value, of course, is infinite. There was the barn owner who thought ground manners were optional and wanted me to do turn in/ turn out of her (Brontosaurus Equus) warmblood herd. One day she admitted, in hushed tones, that even she was a little afraid of the worst offender. There was the bra-optional lady who made me ride in a western saddle with miles-long stirrups that just wouldn't adjust. There was the hoarder obsessed with goats.
There's even one I've never met - a horse trainer in my area that used to own my dog before he found his way into our home. Have you ever seen a hundred pound dog cringe at everyday things like brooms and hoses? I have. So, my fate has been sealed. I'm already a bit eccentric and crusty too I guess. Next stop, crazy! If I ever cross paths with that walking turd of a trainer, I will go crazy. Foaming at the mouth, get-in-the-ring crazy. Anything less, I imagine, would be un-equestrian.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Are You Sitting Down?
Where do we go when we no longer wish to jump, but our childhood jumping background has us going into 2-point or some bastardization thereof? One man's fetal crouch is another man's 2 point! A lot of reriders have to master the whole sit yo ass down technique! You're not careening towards a jump, or careening at all for that matter. Not much good comes from leaning forward. That's where the mane is if you want to grab it, but the handy dandy sit yo ass down and ride keeps you from HAVING to grab mane in the first place. How do we learn it?
Longe lessons. Difficult to find, quite valuable to building a good seat, and the way all riders should be started. For every soul on a message board who proudly blowhards: "I start all my riders on the longe", they sure are hard to find.
Self-longing. Self-lunging? Self-longing is when I'm like wtf why is my life not more awesome? Self-lunge-ing. Round pens have never been better! I spent some goodly time in the round pen with a grab strap willing myself to "sit yo ass down."
What if I have neither longe lesson nor round pen, Witty Horse? Glad you asked. In this case you are down to one option. You must hire Suze Orman to yell at you while you ride. She is the scariest person I've ever seen. She will burst a blood vessel as she shrills: "That SADDLE cost you $2000 PLUS interest PLUS several months' LATE fees! You must SIT on it and RIDE. But you can't. Get off. Just, just, get off. You can't afford this. Sell everything, move into your car, and know your credit score. Stick around, because in a few minutes I'm going to pretend to say something inspirational even though I just melted your dreams with my words."
Happy riding!
Longe lessons. Difficult to find, quite valuable to building a good seat, and the way all riders should be started. For every soul on a message board who proudly blowhards: "I start all my riders on the longe", they sure are hard to find.
Self-longing. Self-lunging? Self-longing is when I'm like wtf why is my life not more awesome? Self-lunge-ing. Round pens have never been better! I spent some goodly time in the round pen with a grab strap willing myself to "sit yo ass down."
What if I have neither longe lesson nor round pen, Witty Horse? Glad you asked. In this case you are down to one option. You must hire Suze Orman to yell at you while you ride. She is the scariest person I've ever seen. She will burst a blood vessel as she shrills: "That SADDLE cost you $2000 PLUS interest PLUS several months' LATE fees! You must SIT on it and RIDE. But you can't. Get off. Just, just, get off. You can't afford this. Sell everything, move into your car, and know your credit score. Stick around, because in a few minutes I'm going to pretend to say something inspirational even though I just melted your dreams with my words."
Happy riding!
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Routine
The post I planned to put up today is going to simmer a tad bit longer. Had a routine MRI which called for a routine Ativan, and I'm not in good form. Something about being all sedated and in an enclosed machine had me feeling spooked even though I had no reason. My thoughts turned to our horses and how much they trust us (to varying extents).
A dental float - an act of caring - seems invasive. An act of betrayal - being asked to step onto a trailer like so many show days, trail ride weekends - feels routine. They never truly know what is intended for them. In a world of such uncertainty, I'd spook because the mounting block had been moved, too.
A dental float - an act of caring - seems invasive. An act of betrayal - being asked to step onto a trailer like so many show days, trail ride weekends - feels routine. They never truly know what is intended for them. In a world of such uncertainty, I'd spook because the mounting block had been moved, too.
Monday, December 19, 2011
What Your Farrier Really Wants for Christmas
Your farrier wants peace and quiet. I could watch someone trim hooves all day; it's almost hypnotic. And yes, you're there to chaperone the horses at their regularly-scheduled pedi. But here's where the nail salon analogy ends.
Your farrier most likely wants to shoot the breeze, get the work done and get on with their life. Shoot the breeze does not include being a therapist for venting about barn drama, or any other kind of drama. You can chat, converse, but don't dump on them. How do you know if you're dumping? If your diatribe lasts longer than two hooves, you're dumping. If your monologue could be described as a rant, you're dumping. If the subject matter is something you'd prefer they'd not repeat but you're hollering loud enough the horse thinks he's being chewed out, you're dumping.
I'm not saying you have to be this happy:
That's Newt Gingrich's wife, by the way. I think my achieving that expression of frozen euphoria would require a trip to the derm AND the pharmacy. Merry Christmas to me!
Your farrier most likely wants to shoot the breeze, get the work done and get on with their life. Shoot the breeze does not include being a therapist for venting about barn drama, or any other kind of drama. You can chat, converse, but don't dump on them. How do you know if you're dumping? If your diatribe lasts longer than two hooves, you're dumping. If your monologue could be described as a rant, you're dumping. If the subject matter is something you'd prefer they'd not repeat but you're hollering loud enough the horse thinks he's being chewed out, you're dumping.
I'm not saying you have to be this happy:
That's Newt Gingrich's wife, by the way. I think my achieving that expression of frozen euphoria would require a trip to the derm AND the pharmacy. Merry Christmas to me!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Clothes Horse
As I mentioned previously, I'm partial to all disciplines. Ponykins is currently in a dressage saddle, in which I work tirelessly to attain an independent seat (it's coming!). But I've also asked Santa for a western saddle, and look forward to bombing around in that. It's all good. Okay, maybe not all good. Here are a few things I find heinous:
Showmanship pants. I cant look at those and breathe at the same time. Sure, they look nice on our model here, but that's a model with a long-ass torso. Those of us less vertically gifted do not find this comfortable. I assure you that I don't require some kind of pants/corset/strapless bra combo to show my horse in-hand. Pants don't need to come up past my waist. I'm having flashbacks to Beverly Hills 90210 now. Let's step back in time.
Western shirt. Why a large collar? I have a feeling the phrase "catch the judge's eye" is lurking somewhere close. You know what else would catch the judge's eye?
This fellow. Same collar, same verse, worse than the first. I want to wear a western hat and chaps, but not at the expense of looking like a Halloween costume.
Recently Kerrits thought they'd dink around with tradition in the English show world, and THIS hit the market. I love me some futuristic-looking helmets, but don't mess with what should be a smartly-tailored jacket. This looks like it was designed by a physical education teacher or something, which is so wrong because they don't think riding is exercise, anyway. We'll quit trying to convince you riding is hard work and you keep your hands off our gear.
What did I leave out? Most equestrian attire is very fashionable. It's no accident that the horsey look shows up on the runways every autumn. What can I say? It's just another way the horse thing is effortlessly fabulous.
Showmanship pants. I cant look at those and breathe at the same time. Sure, they look nice on our model here, but that's a model with a long-ass torso. Those of us less vertically gifted do not find this comfortable. I assure you that I don't require some kind of pants/corset/strapless bra combo to show my horse in-hand. Pants don't need to come up past my waist. I'm having flashbacks to Beverly Hills 90210 now. Let's step back in time.
Western shirt. Why a large collar? I have a feeling the phrase "catch the judge's eye" is lurking somewhere close. You know what else would catch the judge's eye?
This fellow. Same collar, same verse, worse than the first. I want to wear a western hat and chaps, but not at the expense of looking like a Halloween costume.
Recently Kerrits thought they'd dink around with tradition in the English show world, and THIS hit the market. I love me some futuristic-looking helmets, but don't mess with what should be a smartly-tailored jacket. This looks like it was designed by a physical education teacher or something, which is so wrong because they don't think riding is exercise, anyway. We'll quit trying to convince you riding is hard work and you keep your hands off our gear.
What did I leave out? Most equestrian attire is very fashionable. It's no accident that the horsey look shows up on the runways every autumn. What can I say? It's just another way the horse thing is effortlessly fabulous.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tasty!
Which of your horse's rations have you tasted? How was it? Better or worse than you thought?
I've only tasted Equine Senior...not bad, not bad. What I enjoyed most was the day I licked a brand new mineral salt block. It was clean, so I thought, why not? It was divine! Ponykins was in the cross ties at the time so I felt like I was being greedy. We enjoyed tasting bits of it together. Probably gross, but it's good to know what they're tasting. I avoided the parts he licked, which wasn't hard because he drooled all over his part. Maybe I'll make him a horsey margarita for his birthday: a bucket of apple juice lined with bits of salt.
Speaking of buckets, keep them clean! Clean buckets = more water drinking = less risk of colic. No being lax about it just because the weather is cold right now. No, they're not "getting lots of water by eating snow." Make sure the water is clean and not frozen. No, they shouldn't have to break through a layer of ice to get to it. This is horsemanship, not ice fishing.
My guy is finicky about any kind of new food or treat; he only recently decided sugar cubes were okay! He especially adores mints. In a few weeks here, candy canes will be on clearance and he will be guaranteed an endless supply of them. Those of us with hard candy-addict horses know the entertainment that goes along with watching them light up at the sound of crackling plastic. They stand a HAND taller! I'm going to send peppermint candies to my favorite rescue. I'm not able to write them a big check, or a small check, really. But the rescues will have treats! Because they deserve it just as much.
Horses are for consuming food, not becoming food.
I've only tasted Equine Senior...not bad, not bad. What I enjoyed most was the day I licked a brand new mineral salt block. It was clean, so I thought, why not? It was divine! Ponykins was in the cross ties at the time so I felt like I was being greedy. We enjoyed tasting bits of it together. Probably gross, but it's good to know what they're tasting. I avoided the parts he licked, which wasn't hard because he drooled all over his part. Maybe I'll make him a horsey margarita for his birthday: a bucket of apple juice lined with bits of salt.
Speaking of buckets, keep them clean! Clean buckets = more water drinking = less risk of colic. No being lax about it just because the weather is cold right now. No, they're not "getting lots of water by eating snow." Make sure the water is clean and not frozen. No, they shouldn't have to break through a layer of ice to get to it. This is horsemanship, not ice fishing.
My guy is finicky about any kind of new food or treat; he only recently decided sugar cubes were okay! He especially adores mints. In a few weeks here, candy canes will be on clearance and he will be guaranteed an endless supply of them. Those of us with hard candy-addict horses know the entertainment that goes along with watching them light up at the sound of crackling plastic. They stand a HAND taller! I'm going to send peppermint candies to my favorite rescue. I'm not able to write them a big check, or a small check, really. But the rescues will have treats! Because they deserve it just as much.
Horses are for consuming food, not becoming food.
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