I broke my own rule - and sure enough it didn't work as planned

Remy and I journeyed to Northern Michigan this weekend for an eagerly anticipated three days of Long-Reining with a clinician that hails originally from Spain. The clinic was highly recommended by a friend of mine who had organized several clinics with him before.


The trip started out promising with a beautiful drive Up North, through pristine forests and farmlands. Remy is such a good traveler, he even patiently waited while I had to make a pit stop at a rest area. My trusted co-pilot (aka the Navigation system) did a stellar job and got us there in under three hours' drive time. As soon as we pulled up to the stable we were greeted by a nice guy that helped unload and even cleaned the trailer. Off to a good start!


Remy settled into his weekend digs, and a bit later we had our first lesson, starting with putting the tail up correctly. The private lesson introducing us to the art of long reining went well, and I was  excited to learn more in the following days. After Remy was settled for the night I made my way through the country side to the Gould Farm B&B. What a pleasant surprise, a beautiful farm house on top of a hill (think Tara), surrounded by nothing but rolling farm land. Everything turned out even better than advertised, and I immediately liked the owners, Judy and Lynn Gould.


Unfortunately, things didn't go so well the following two days. I found the clinician arrogant and not explaining well which led to a lot of frustrations. He insisted of teaching the Spanish Walk, for which I really had no use. I was there to learn how to work the horse with long reins (or so I thought). I loaned my new, German made, and expensive longing surcingle to a very nice fellow attendee and when the clinician got after her horse rather harshly one of the turrets (standing rings) broke off. He didn't even offer an apology, which I found to be plain rude.


I didn't want to quit and saw it through, but I was more than relieved when Sunday afternoon rolled around. On the bright side, Remy was a good student, never freaked out, and tried his best to understand what he was supposed to do. I met very remarkable people, like the Septuagenarian owner of stable full of QH race horses, one winning more than $10 Million. Charming, sharp like a tick, she had to excuse herself from Sunday's lessons due to lunch with a senator. The conversations with Judy and Lynn at breakfast and in the evening were super interesting also.


The trip home was equally uneventful as going there. Remy stepped off the trailer and was enthusiastically greeted by his friends. JP was (hopefully!) as happy to see me as Chambord was to see Remy.


So, I did break my own rule to NEVER attend a clinic without auditing first - and sure enough, it didn't pan out. I read somewhere the quote "I either win or I learn": So it wasn't a winner but I'll put it under learning experience.


Another lesson learned the hard way: Don't buy imported beer if you don't carry a bottle opener. By Saturday night I was desperate for a drink so I got a bottle of beer at a country store. My desperate attempts to get to the beer netted me a bloody bottle because I smashed my finger attacking the cap with my truck key.


The rule I didn't break: No quitting. I did get to that well deserved liquid gold eventually.

This time Waterloo treated us better than Napoleon -

OK, we weren’t in Belgium and there was no war to be won or lost. But still, what can I say: We won our own personal battle at Dressage at Waterloo Autumn Classic. I had signed up for one day only, trailer in, ride two classes, trailer out: No muss – no fuss.

The show secretary was very accommodating, giving us ride times in the afternoon, 3:05 and 3:44. In the morning JP and I took the boys for a relaxing jaunt through the woods, then loaded up and off we went – me barely keeping my mounting panic under wraps. Luckily it turned out to be a very small show, nice and relaxed, just what we needed. Brandt met us at the showgrounds, primarily to act as moral support and “security blanky” meaning should things go south he could hop on Remy.

Much to my surprise (sometimes I do surprise myself!) I was calm, and after the briefest of warm-ups off we went. It really helped that the judge (a FEI 3* judge no less) seemed very sympa. 2^nd 2 went well, so well in fact that I scrambled to dig out a $10 bill and asked Brandt to hoof it to the show office so I could enter the next class as qualifier for next year’s regional championships. And yes, despite “unfortunate expensive mistakes” (judge’s talk for unauthorized flying changes) in 2^nd3 we did a good job and indeed got our qualifying score. Talk about relief on so many levels!

JP pointed out that my warm-up really was not sufficient, and we could have done even better with more prep. Yep, I know that, but I just wanted to get this thing over with. JP was happy nevertheless (of course, he was happy - he didn’t have to deal with a crying wife and/or out of control horse), and strutted off to collect the blue ribbons and yay, more wine glasses.

So, I guess we were following in the footsteps of famous generals: The Duke of Wellington and General von Bluecher (for non-history buffs: They won the battle of Waterloo in 1815). Better polish that old Coat of Arms!

Mexican pyramids, super rides - and when the name fits...

Last week I was able to combine a business trip to Mexico with a visit to the pyramids of Teotihuacan*. It was just an awe-inspiring experience. I was lucky to travel with the youngest of my sales managers, a fit and always up to adventures guy. Not to brag, but he certainly did not leave me in the dust - or half-way up the pyramid.

On the Pyramid of the Moon, the Pyramid of the Sun is in the background - and yes, I climbed that one, too.

Back home I barely had time to fumble myself back into Remy's saddle and then it was time to ride with Jan. Never a dull moment. Luckily all of Judy's diligent work with us paid off and we had a super lesson. Jan surprised me with asking for flying changes, as in canter half-pass to flying change, and changes on a straight line. We were game! I was super happy with Remy, and it's like something has made click: All of our rides since then have been fun and really good. (Knock on wood!).

I felt so good that I went out on a limb, hiked up those big girl pants all the way, and signed up for the last Waterloo show this year. What the heck, might as well give it a try.

While I was in Mexico JP wasn't idle, he came across a fun Cabrio for sale, an Audi TT. Good deal, now JP has a new (used) toy, and its name hits the nail on the head: "TT" stands in German for "Turnier Trottel". It's the term for the poor schmuck -usually a husband or boyfriend- schlepping all the stuff for rider and horse, patiently helping with grooming, horse holding, fetching, reading tests, etc. etc. Loosely translated you could call it "Show Gofer" (sounds much better than "Show Dummy").

So, my TT now drives a TT - which means I have two TT's!


Note: JP just read the blog and pointed out that he is neither a "Poor Schmuck" nor a "TT" - his is strictly a labor of love - but he'll still keep the TT (car that is).

*Teotihuacan  also written Teotihuacán (Spanish pronunciation: [teotiwa'kan] was an ancient Mesoamerican city located in a sub-valley of the Valley of Mexico, located in the State of Mexico 30 miles (48 km) northeast of modern-day Mexico City, known today as the site of many of the most architecturally significant Mesoamerican pyramids built in the pre-Columbian Americas.

At its zenith, perhaps in the first half of the 1st millennium AD, Teotihuacan was the largest city in the pre-Columbian Americas, with a population estimated at 125,000 or more, making it at least the sixth largest city in the world during its epoch. (Wikipedia)

Gottago gottago - but not here, and not there, not anywhere

While yesterday's trailride was just perfect, weather, boys, bugs... all fell into place. Today was a new day, literally.


The morning started hot, humid, with the threat of a thunderstorm. We figured we get a move on while things were still relatively quiet. The mosquitoes had the same thought it seems, nasty little buggers. While Chambord was as steadfast as ever, Remy was plain cranky. Right when I got on I thought "uh, uh, back is tight as a drum - I bet he has to pee". Never mind that he had all opportunity in the world to go before I got on.


The trails were nice and soft, and we stopped to give him the opportunity to do his business. Nope, not doing it, I'd rather continue to be cranky, he said. I even got off on a nice sandy spot, hoping that would do the trick. When that did work I led him a for a bit and hopped back on, now getting grumpy myself.


Wouldn't you know it, once I got our cranky selves home, Remy let out a big sigh - and proceeded to flood his stall. Really, dude?? Jeez, you're a guy, what's the big deal - you are supposed to love to pee outside!


But wait - perhaps I'm making the wrong assumption here: I am thinking of all the Frenchmen I tried to ignore over the years on the side of freeways (or even on street corners) doing the deed. Obviously, Remy's heritage has Puritan roots and he disdains that practice. Duh!

Move those haunches - and his dancing card is pretty full

Scott, part of our father-son, awesome farrier team came yesterday and worked on Remy's hoof. He cut out the dead tissue, cleaned the heel area, and applied 'Dry Cow'. Remy was much less ouchy today, so I tempted to take him to our lesson.


JP - sans stones- took Chambord and they both had a blast cantering along. Clearly, less ballast is good :-).


While I still have a hard time breathing in the indoor arena, the footing sure is wonderful for the horses legs, soft and cushiony but supportive. Remy started out as usual (rather pulling than pushing), but then got with the program. We had a pretty amazing ride. Our haunches in's and half-passes weren't quite to Judy's liking at the beginning (I admit - even if she were easier to please it wouldn't have been up to snuff). So she had us do head to the wall leg yields, basically taking the bend out of the haunches in. Once we had that down pat we moved to the half-passes in canter and trot, and sure enough, it flowed. It is just such an awesome feeling when it all just seems to click, no effort, just a dance. I better remember that next time we hit another stumbling block!


Afterwards Judy and I went through the September schedule, and boy, Remy's dancing card is brimming: Jan, Police Horse Training, one day at Waterloo Dressage, Long Reining Clinic, Feldenkrais Workshop ... Not much room left for flirting with other adventures, pretty as they might be.


Remy does have a definite ace up his sleeve when it comes to managing his calendar: A very skilled Executive Assistant (yours truly). As for me? "Selbst ist die Frau!" ("Self reliance is the name of the game" - at least for this woman!)

A 'stony' week - and where is a Dry Cow when I need one?

That was quite the week. Last Sunday JP went to Urgent Care because of intense pain, and by Monday at Midnight we ended up in the Emergency Room at the local hospital. Yes, it was the night shift, but we came across the most unfriendly nurses we had ever met. JP got a morphine drip, and that did a number on him. CT scan showed plenty of kidney stones, working their way through his system. Poor guy. Six hours later I took my 'stoned' (in both senses) hubby home.


Needless to say, not much riding going on during the week. Remy was good for Judy, and when I finally climbed on Friday he was a very good boy. However, when I cleaned his hooves he was uncharacteristically touchy, pulling his right hind away from me and even kicking out. Closer inspection of the hoof showed that the poor guy has thrush, which explains his reaction.


At home I soaked his hoof in salt water, but what I really needed was "Dry Cow" - a product to cure bovine mastitis. It comes in syringes and gets squirted right into the teats of the cow. It is non caustic, and will take care of the inflammation. I had used this on Saumur years before, and rummaging through my drawers revealed one syringe - with an expiration date of 2013. Oh, well, better than nothing.


On the bright side, after an excruciating week JP's stones had worked their way through his system - Yay! As soon as they were gone JP was (almost) as good as new.


With JP off the sick list I continued my quest to score "Dry Cow". Country living has its advantages: The second farm supply store I hit carried a 12 pack. I didn't even get any strange looks at check out - guess by now I blend in so well that a bovine mastitis product looks just like another item on my shopping list. Hmm??

There goes my "Saddle for Life" - and another notch in our belts

The good news: Remy's body is developing exactly as it should - or in Luanne's (the saddle fitter) words to our mutual friend Glenda "I'm not sure what they are doing but it must be good, the horse looks great!" The not so good news: Remy outgrew his saddle, even though it's adjustable. I had assumed that like Saumur's saddle it would be a "Saddle for Life" (OK, the company's slogan is "Saddle Fit for Life" and not "Saddle for Life"). My bad.


Remy's growth in the shoulders combined with his short back does require a 'relief wedge' to take the pressure off his loins. So either I have the underside of my current saddle completely changed to the tune of $1.2K and 2 months without a saddle or I get a new saddle. Uff! Luanne came to the barn on Friday to let me try a wide range of saddles to see if there is any style I like better than my current Triumph. To my relief I did not fall in love with any of the top $$ saddles, and in the end I decided to order the same model I have with the different panels. No need to change a good thing when you have one. The other not so good news: The saddle has a three month lead time. Guess business is brisk and Canadians have a lot of vacation time...


Yesterday JP, Remy and I ventured to Waterloo for schooling. Yes, the scene of the 'crime' (cracked leg), and I was not overly keen on it. But it needed to be done, and the conditions were excellent for our purposes: Small show, almost empty warm up arenas. We hauled in, tacked up, and off we went. Remy was a really good boy, he got to work in the warm up arenas and hardly batted an eye.

We couldn't do it without our coach/groom/driver/moral support/kick in the a**

Veni, vidi, vici


(Latin for "I came, I saw, I conquered")