Mixed Signals

Usually the comment, "mixed signals" is followed by a "4" and then maybe, if you are lucky, some redemption later on in the test.  For the first time, though, "mixed signals" was the high point of my test.  It was my mare's Third Level debut, already a proud moment for me, because only two summers ago she did her first dressage class, and I think every comment that entire season was "unsteady".  Alyce and I have developed a working agreement; some would even call it a partnership. As we came to the second flying change I sat a bit taller approaching the centerline, rebalancing before the change.  Alyce came back a bit more than I expected; she had interpreted my seat aid as a walk transition. I asked her to keep cantering, and to my surprise, she cantered on after almost walking.  I prepared the change again, asked for it, and she made a crisp, clean change.  We got a "7", and the comment "mixed signals".  To the judge, it looked like the horse and I weren't on the same page, which was true, but it really was a simple rider error.  I had given a stronger half-halt than the horse needed, and almost caused a mistake.  Alyce was more sensitive than I had anticipated! It was great that she ended on a 67.82%, and Third Level Open Reserve Champion, but better still was the knowledge that my horse had tried so hard to figure out what I wanted from her, despite the distraction of the show atmosphere and the pressure of a test. Go Alyce, and welcome to being a real dressage horse!

What CAN be done??

My last post was met with mixed reviews, like, "Wow, you're motivated, but I just hate the cold." I get it.  Here are nine things Northerners can do, without ever hopping on a horse:

1. Sift through your tack box.  I can only guess what's hiding in there.
2. Memorize your tests.  The sooner you know them, the sooner you can start imagining all the ways you might screw them up. Let the show nerves begin!
3. Take an inventory of all things horsey; get a few new things if you need them, and out with the seen-better-days, never-to-be-used-again junk.  For the love of all things holy, get rid of all the single gloves.
4. Teach Pookie to lead better, by which I mean, drag Pookie around the ring until Pookie learns to follow along like a gentleman without dragging you to sniff the poops or spooking at the corner monsters.
5. Read a classic training book. What is shoulder-in anyway? Try Steinbrecht's Gymnasium of the Horse, or Podhajsky's The Complete Training of Horse and Rider.  Into jumping?  How about Steinkraus's Reflections on Riding and Jumping?  Have fears to conquer? Go for Sally Swift's Centered Riding, or Jane Savoie's That Winning Feeling. 
6. Get s*** done. Literally. As in, take a fecal sample to the vet.  The ground is frozen, and your horse isn't likely to be picking up many new worms, so get those egg counts down.
7. Is your trailer road-worthy? Dig it out of the snow and take it to the shop...where else would you find some old dude to call you sweetie? Get your fix of sexist old guy time early this year.
8. For the ultimate at-home-sitter's winter task, organize your ribbons from last show season, while watching YouTube videos of your classes and singing along to Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days".   
9. Or, you could go ride. It's probably easier than doing all this other crap.
   

      
   
   
         

   Squee! Ribbons!     

   
   
   
   

   

   Inventory and organization, check.

   
   

   
   

Dear Snowbirds...

We creatures that stay up north are a hardy type, a bit sullen, and certainly a bit rounder than the lithe snowbirds who need not consider insulation. Life with horses in the Northeast is hard.  It's mid-February; days are getting longer but tempers are getting shorter.  We lament the frozen water spigots, curse the dust in the arena, and dread the snow falling from the arena roof. The holidays have come and gone, spring is months away, and a high above zero is cause for celebration. Social media bombards us with images of Wellington, Ocala, and the Carolinas.  Other people, worlds removed from frozen buckets and sheets of ice, are having fun.
To those having fun down south, I say: Enjoy the bling on your helmet; I have frost on my eyelashes and a fire lit under my ass.  I ride everyday, and I will be ready for show season.  You have sandy beaches and beautifully groomed outdoor arenas to ride on, but we also have lovely white granular material, and ours is easier to get out of our breeches when we fall off.  You have a fancy show coat? Well, I am wearing THREE coats!  I don't begrudge you snowbirds the opportunity to enjoy the winter without struggle, but we in the north must make the winter our teacher, and our friend.
Life in the Northeast tests us; it offers us something that money can't buy. To all the northern riders, I say: Embrace the lessons of winter; the best teacher is the toughest teacher. Get enough clothes and get outside everyday. Ride, snowshoe, ski. And in the spring, reap the rewards. You will be tougher, mentally and physically, from struggling through the winter.