Catherine and Kirsten are contesting the World Cup, Sinead’s at Rolex, Jennie’s off winning something, Elizabeth’s daughter is probably off winning something, and I’m… well, I’m at home, not doing much of anything. This lineup of bloggers is really giving me quite the inferiority complex.
It’s true. Ella’s working wonderfully, gearing up for her Grown Up Grand Prix (as opposed to the Young Rider Grand Prix, which we rode a few times last year) Debut in July. My two-ish days at Michael’s were great, and while I know we’ve still got lots of things to improve, I am SO happy with Ella’s strengthening and maturity.
This was her first trip solo in a very long time—she’s always gone places with other horses, her brothers or client horses or whatever—and other than some mournful yelling when she first loaded up, she was a superstar all weekend. She ate, walked around, and was all together very boring to handle. HOORAH.
The work was very good, showing progress from the last lesson I had in Florida, and we’ve got a good thing going. Towards July. Eleven weeks from now. It feels like forever.
Midge and Fender have even longer paths. Midge continues to develop well, but I don’t have anything on his dance card until 2012. And while Fender apparently read my last blog about what a snot he was being and felt sorry and has vowed to improve his manners, he’s still just not really any clear level. He trots straight like a second level horse, sideways like a training level horse; his balance at the canter is first level-ish, but he can make a clean flying change each way, though still unable to produce a respectable walk-canter transition. He’s five, in short, and since my rule on the lower levels has always been that babies go to shows until they learn to behave at shows and then don’t have to come out again until they wear a double bridle, he may not show for years.
So… that’s that.
I am taking Mr. Tres to a local show next week, to do the Small Tour—my first I1 in several years—and he feels like a million bucks, so that’ll be fun. I have some clients going too. It’ll probably rain, because apparently that’s all it does around here, horse show or not, but we’ll have a good time. I have Scott coming right after the show to tell me whether or not to shoot Fender (even odds at this stage). I might get Michael to come down shortly after that for the upper level horses.
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Then I have a big group of folks going to the PVDA Ride For Life at the end of June, including a fun new young horse I’m showing for his owner, and that show is always great. I have two new working students starting soon. I’m back in karate classes, trying to only get hurt once a week instead of overtime I go (so far, unsuccessfully).
But all those things seem either of low importance or too far away to get excited about. And it’s not just that stuff. The weather has been totally appalling, tornados and massive storms soaking my fields so badly I’m not sure we’ll ever get to turnout again. It means I’m stuck in my indoor, ad nauseum.
I’m starting to take up barefoot running, which will be very cool as soon as it stops hurting like hell. Until then, I’m barely going a mile, and I feel sluggish and weighed down. I’ve got a great new workout program from my friends at Sound Mind & Body Lifestyle Coaching, but I’m only a few weeks in, and so of course I don’t feel the difference yet.
In short, I think I have The Doldrums.
I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork, I haven’t cooked a real meal in weeks—no time—and I’ve even got two bags of stuff from Florida still not unpacked. I wish I had some scary deadline, something nervewracking to aspire towards. Instead, I’m digesting a very large margarita and writing this blog, lying in my pajamas in bed at 8:30 at night. Boy. If every there was a need for a butt kicking, this would be it!
So tomorrow I’m going to make a BIG dent in that office work. I’m going to take a vacuum to this place, because if I don’t Health and Human Services is going to show up and waggle their index fingers at me. And I’ll try for 1.2 miles in my goofy new barefoot shoes. Assuming it doesn’t rain. Or tornado, or whatever else is going on in this crazy world.
