Summer at the Double K
Ebony Waiting
(Because Jackie digs the horses...)
(Because Jackie digs the horses...)
Showing posts with label horse training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horse training. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Weekend Begins
The first of the weekend's family arrives this evening- Mom! Yippee! I feel bad--I talk to her just after a rigorous session with a tough horse where some blatantly obvious things went on (generally you try to catch things before they snowball into fireworks, which is great for teaching a horse but not very exciting for educational videos. This evening we get some fireworks.) She says she's pulling into the driveway moments after I realize the video camera had NOT been rolling for the entire hour and a half. I am not at my nicest.
She shows up though, and all is well with the world. After greetings and hugs she jumps on Mr. B's Kubota and starts mowing. It's a pathological obsession of hers, but I heartily approve! She finishes the barnyard just about the time I finish working the last horse and we load up our starving bellies for Outback.
After copious amounts of barely cooked cow, Justin, our all-too-serious waiter, warns us of the festivities in the parking lot. I beeline for a better view: 8 cop cars of varying denominations, 10+ officers of varying rank with weapons drawn, and 1 skinny perp cuffed and folded across Sheriff's hood. I ask around and best I can piece together is a drug bust after a drawn out car chase. I chortle imagining the innocuous blue minivan with a herd of cop cars in hot pursuit.
We continue on to fill the diesel cans for tomorrow's mow-a-thon.
She shows up though, and all is well with the world. After greetings and hugs she jumps on Mr. B's Kubota and starts mowing. It's a pathological obsession of hers, but I heartily approve! She finishes the barnyard just about the time I finish working the last horse and we load up our starving bellies for Outback.
After copious amounts of barely cooked cow, Justin, our all-too-serious waiter, warns us of the festivities in the parking lot. I beeline for a better view: 8 cop cars of varying denominations, 10+ officers of varying rank with weapons drawn, and 1 skinny perp cuffed and folded across Sheriff's hood. I ask around and best I can piece together is a drug bust after a drawn out car chase. I chortle imagining the innocuous blue minivan with a herd of cop cars in hot pursuit.
We continue on to fill the diesel cans for tomorrow's mow-a-thon.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Gratitude
"It really cracks me up when circumstances force me to practice what I preach!" I IM this morning, as I watch my plans heave like the sea in The Perfect Storm.
As a free lancer, I piece each day together in an intricate patchwork of varying locations, tasks and timeframes patterned around multiple people's schedules. One of those people, we'll call him Genghis Khan, destroyed any possibility for productivity by tearing his (unfortunately vital) piece out by the seams in the 11th hour and with enough uncertainty around the replacement that the pattern was minimally salvageable, at best. The impact? Complications, cancellations, tangled time and lost income. And this was the second time, with the strong possibility of spilling over into day 3.
John Maxwell's words hang by my door, reminding me as I go out to greet the world that "the greatest day in your life and mine is the day we take total responsibility for our attitudes." There's a piece of the preachin'. Now for the practicin'. I can get pissed off, or mine fresh possibilities. What can I do but laugh as I pull out my planner? Again.
I make phone calls, shuffle things around, try to work around each possible scenario Genghis offered. I figure if I stay local (NOT on the original agenda!) at least I can get back quickly if he comes in sometime today. I head down the road to a client's farm.
The first horse, Luke, is in rare form. He'll be going along nice and responsive then catch a passing car out of the corner of his eye. 1500 pounds of raw force and rebellion exploding into the air and fighting for domination. We work on the ground where he can clearly see my body language (horses' native "tongue") until he has a major breakthrough in communication and attention. I swing into the saddle. And groan.
The creak of jagged fragments grating together, the unmistakable feel of flexing instead of firm resilience-- my saddle tree is broken. Destroyed. My favorite saddle. My most expensive saddle. The saddle qua non of my business. The only explanation I can muster is that the feed store boys slammed a sack of grain into it while they were loading the car. Unless Luke snapped it that one astonishing aerial...Its irrelevent. Its broken. I sigh and dismount.
I'm driving home afterwards, mulling things over. Get pissed off vs. mine the possibilities.... I know its a piece of some as-yet-unseen puzzle. There's something to come out of it, but right now I'm struggling not to get hung up on counting the cost (ouch!)
It occurs to me. Luke detonates with absolutely no forewarning. I can outride just about any creatively violent maneuver a horse can come up with, but I can't keep them on their feet if they lose the game with gravity in mid-acrobatics. By ending my ride prematurely, what disasters were averted? What catastrophic price was supplanted by a broken saddle tree?
I may never know, but as always, in all things, I will give thanks!
As a free lancer, I piece each day together in an intricate patchwork of varying locations, tasks and timeframes patterned around multiple people's schedules. One of those people, we'll call him Genghis Khan, destroyed any possibility for productivity by tearing his (unfortunately vital) piece out by the seams in the 11th hour and with enough uncertainty around the replacement that the pattern was minimally salvageable, at best. The impact? Complications, cancellations, tangled time and lost income. And this was the second time, with the strong possibility of spilling over into day 3.
John Maxwell's words hang by my door, reminding me as I go out to greet the world that "the greatest day in your life and mine is the day we take total responsibility for our attitudes." There's a piece of the preachin'. Now for the practicin'. I can get pissed off, or mine fresh possibilities. What can I do but laugh as I pull out my planner? Again.
I make phone calls, shuffle things around, try to work around each possible scenario Genghis offered. I figure if I stay local (NOT on the original agenda!) at least I can get back quickly if he comes in sometime today. I head down the road to a client's farm.
The first horse, Luke, is in rare form. He'll be going along nice and responsive then catch a passing car out of the corner of his eye. 1500 pounds of raw force and rebellion exploding into the air and fighting for domination. We work on the ground where he can clearly see my body language (horses' native "tongue") until he has a major breakthrough in communication and attention. I swing into the saddle. And groan.
The creak of jagged fragments grating together, the unmistakable feel of flexing instead of firm resilience-- my saddle tree is broken. Destroyed. My favorite saddle. My most expensive saddle. The saddle qua non of my business. The only explanation I can muster is that the feed store boys slammed a sack of grain into it while they were loading the car. Unless Luke snapped it that one astonishing aerial...Its irrelevent. Its broken. I sigh and dismount.
I'm driving home afterwards, mulling things over. Get pissed off vs. mine the possibilities.... I know its a piece of some as-yet-unseen puzzle. There's something to come out of it, but right now I'm struggling not to get hung up on counting the cost (ouch!)
It occurs to me. Luke detonates with absolutely no forewarning. I can outride just about any creatively violent maneuver a horse can come up with, but I can't keep them on their feet if they lose the game with gravity in mid-acrobatics. By ending my ride prematurely, what disasters were averted? What catastrophic price was supplanted by a broken saddle tree?
I may never know, but as always, in all things, I will give thanks!
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