1. Rain! We finally got measurable rain. We had gentle rainfall Wednesday night and Thursday; a total of half an inch. The horses all promptly rolled and, Jackson especially, are filthy. We sat in the house Thursday evening listening and smiling; the oak leaves were wet and fragrant underfoot when we did the chores, and the chickens scratched like mad in their yard.
2. Rain meant that construction stopped for a day on the new siding. Remember when we had to remodel the master bathroom due to the shower leaking through the ceiling? During that constructions, we discovered that water was also leaking and running down the inside of the exterior wall. When the drywall was cut out to move plumbing around, there was daylight shining through gaps and bulges in the warped siding. We are animal lovers, yes, but the idea of wasps and rodents taking up residence in the walls was not a happy thought. The backside of the house has no overhang and it takes a beating from the weather. The entire backside of the house is getting new, fire resistant (concrete) siding.
3. Do you see the back door "porch" and steps? Very small and rickety. We are replacing them as well. The wrap-around porch will continue it's wrap from the side of house (closest to the camera but not in the picture), turn the corner and go to the back door. Steps will lead from the edge of the porch to the driveway. You can't see it in this photo but the current porch/landing is actually pulling away from the house. It has never felt safe/sturdy and it will be a huge relief to see it go.
4. Thanks to everyone for their supportive comments about Lucy and I. We share an amazing bond; stronger and different from that I've ever had with a horse. We are friends (is that weird?), we understand each other, we love to be together -- even if it is just hanging out in the pasture. She trusts me completely and I'm careful to always be fair when I ride her. She's a great teacher -- I've never sat straighter or been quieter with the aids in my life. I have learned to be a more tactful rider and she has learned to be relaxed and accepting/trusting of the contact. When we first started working together, asking for canter was an act of faith. She always went -- but I never knew if it was going to be a high headed race or relaxed. Now, it is relaxed 95% of the time. Soft shoulders and soft elbows have been key; she's a bit claustrophobic so my relaxed, heavy arms give her space in the contact. I can't thank Sandy enough for teaching me how to ride this "ambitious" horse.
5. Brett and I plan to ride tomorrow. The arena sand should be perfect after the rain. We have a possibility of more rain, beginning Saturday night, so Sunday is a question mark. Brett and Pistol will be going down to the Mark Rashid clinic in a few weeks and I want to cement everything I learned at Sandy's workshop in my brain and my body.
Friday, October 2, 2015
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Clinic Video
Watching dressage is a lot like watching grass grow or paint dry. It is not the most exciting equestrian sport for sure. But for you hard-core dressage enthusiasts (like me), here is a link to my evaluation ride -- our first ride -- at the clinic. It is circles and circles and circles. Lucy doesn't look as tense in the video as she felt -- except for the canter work at the end. She really throws her head around and worries in those transitions. The spook-scoot-buck happens just past the 24 minute mark.
Sandy teaches transitions from your seat. The idea was for me to ask when one of her front legs was on the ground by squeezing with my calf. Additionally, Sandy teaches us to never brace; she does not want the supple movement of the horse's back to be compromised. In the transition, the leg which hangs softly against the side of your horse squeezes with the upper calf and stills -- a pause in the following movement of the lower leg. Eventually, this momentary stillness becomes the primary aid. Thinking about the canter aid, we slide our outside leg back -- kind of a windshield wiper movement. But, we also slide that leg back for leg yield, half pass and other upper level movements. The stilling of your leg says "transition", your upper calf says "now", and your hand receives the energy with a light ring-finger half halt before and after the transition.
My biggest take-away from this clinic (and there were many) was the expectation of prompt clear transitions between gates. I had been asking for my downward transition from trot to walk by sitting, slowing my seat, sitting a bit heavier and we gently dropped into walk. Nope. Not any more. We need to transition from an active trot to an active walk and it has to be Bam! Part of what we worked on in the video was teaching Lucy that when I sit the trot it doesn't mean slow down. I have her conditioned to think we are going to gradually make the transition. The same is true for the walk to trot, upward, transition. A gradual build to a forward trot isn't acceptable anymore. She's not a young, green horse (all I've ever owned before Lucy). She can go from zero to sixty in a stride; I need to expect that (and be comfortable with the surge of power). As Sandy said, Lucy is an "ambitious" horse -- she likes to go; forward is not a challenge (relaxation and patience are).
By Sunday morning, Lucy and I were in sync. She felt amazing -- controlled power, like driving a Ferrari (well, I've never driven one, but one can imagine).
I love, love, love this horse. And, the workshop was awesome. Even with the heat and the stinky cat-pee smelling fly bait dousing, it was awesome.
Sandy teaches transitions from your seat. The idea was for me to ask when one of her front legs was on the ground by squeezing with my calf. Additionally, Sandy teaches us to never brace; she does not want the supple movement of the horse's back to be compromised. In the transition, the leg which hangs softly against the side of your horse squeezes with the upper calf and stills -- a pause in the following movement of the lower leg. Eventually, this momentary stillness becomes the primary aid. Thinking about the canter aid, we slide our outside leg back -- kind of a windshield wiper movement. But, we also slide that leg back for leg yield, half pass and other upper level movements. The stilling of your leg says "transition", your upper calf says "now", and your hand receives the energy with a light ring-finger half halt before and after the transition.
My biggest take-away from this clinic (and there were many) was the expectation of prompt clear transitions between gates. I had been asking for my downward transition from trot to walk by sitting, slowing my seat, sitting a bit heavier and we gently dropped into walk. Nope. Not any more. We need to transition from an active trot to an active walk and it has to be Bam! Part of what we worked on in the video was teaching Lucy that when I sit the trot it doesn't mean slow down. I have her conditioned to think we are going to gradually make the transition. The same is true for the walk to trot, upward, transition. A gradual build to a forward trot isn't acceptable anymore. She's not a young, green horse (all I've ever owned before Lucy). She can go from zero to sixty in a stride; I need to expect that (and be comfortable with the surge of power). As Sandy said, Lucy is an "ambitious" horse -- she likes to go; forward is not a challenge (relaxation and patience are).
By Sunday morning, Lucy and I were in sync. She felt amazing -- controlled power, like driving a Ferrari (well, I've never driven one, but one can imagine).
I love, love, love this horse. And, the workshop was awesome. Even with the heat and the stinky cat-pee smelling fly bait dousing, it was awesome.
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