Day 1 - on my own

Yesterday was the first day of my lease on G.  I also, as usual, had work in my classroom.  I decided to eat my meat before the pudding, and I worked first.  I was really excited to go to the ranch, but also had serious butterflies.

When I finally got to the ranch, I met more nice people.  Funny how many are teachers.  They all seemed pleased that someone was going to be giving G attention.  I took him out of his stall and spent a long time grooming him.  He has "rain rot" which I need to research.

Tacking him up was awkward.  His saddle has more straps than I'm used to.  His bridle was a little tricky too.  I felt pretty pleased with myself when I finally figured it all out on my own.  Then we were off.

I took the same route as we took on my test-trail ride.  It was fine until we got to the spot he spooked before.  Then he started backing and trying to turn back.  I didn't realize at first that it was the same spot.  I thought he was just testing me, but it was also that he was afraid.  I turned him in circles and then tried to go forward.  He would start backing and sidestepping.  I turned him in circles again.  This went on for years, or maybe five minutes.  Finally, with some firm kicks I got him past the spot and we rode along ok again.

After a while a truck approached us from behind.  It was a narrow road so I rode to the side and stopped.  G lunged up a narrow berm of dirt and then stumbled down it.  It was pretty terrifying to me since I'm so afraid that a horse I'm riding may fall.  We both stayed upright and so then it was just embarrassing.  The people in the truck waved as they passed and I waved back.  At that point I realized my pants had caught on a barbwire fence and ripped from knee to ankle.

So lessons learned:

1. Be prepared for trouble if you've had trouble in that spot before
2. Ride to a wide spot or a driveway where you can get all the way off the road
3. I am capable of dealing with challenges
4. G has more energy than I thought

I went home after cooling G and grooming him again.  After changing pants Gary and I went to Fox Feed for fly spray and something for rain rot.  We went back to the ranch and I rode for a little while in the arena.  A quiet end to an eventful first day.

After two test rides I signed the papers to lease Geronimo.  It's month-to-month so as long as I can remain somewhat detached, I can stop or switch to another horse with no penalty.

So here's what I know about him so far.  He is a registered paint, approximately 16 hands, and has one blue eye.  He is a cribber, which is not curable.  Because of that he is very thin.  He is also very out of shape.  According to the ranch owner (not G's owner) he is ridden only about once a month.  A girl at the ranch occasionally turns him out because she feels badly for him.

The first I rode him in the arena and he walked following my commands pretty well.  It was very difficult to get him to trot and nearly impossible to get him to maintain a trot.  I didn't try to get him to lope.  A few days later, yesterday, I rode him on trail with the ranch owner.

He was well behaved on trail, but obviously not in the same shape as the other horses.  He spooked and did a little spin when some minis ran up to a fence we passed.  I was easily able to get him under control and calmed down.  He was a little spooky when a loose dog barked at us from a distance. but this time I was ready and we had no spinning.  I was actually glad to see he had the energy to move so quickly.  We went over some long low inclines which was hard work for him, but he did it.

Geronimo is easy to groom and he picks up his feet to have them cleaned.  He's barefoot right now.  His coat is flaky and shedding, but regular grooming will help.

All in all I think I will gain confidence riding on my own 3 days a week.  G will gain muscle and become more responsive with regular riding.  I'm guessing I'll be ready to "move up" to a better horse in several months.  I just hope at that point I'm not too attached to G.  I also hope if he's in better shape, they will find someone else to lease him when I move on.

My new horse schedule is ride Geronimo Wednesday and Friday after work, Saturday a lesson at another ranch on Danny, and then Sunday back to Geronimo.  G is at a ranch only 8-10 minutes from home.  Danny's ranch is 20 minutes away.

What my dog ate and how much I care

Menchi ate the old hardcover version of Star Surgeon by Alan Nourse.  It was originally from an Orange County library.  Either Gary as a child never returned it or he bought it from them at a book sale.

How much do I care from 1-10, 10 being care deeply:

2

Menchi only ate the cover of the hardcover version of Moon Mutiny by Lester Del Rey.  This came from Villa Park High School.  Again whether it was never returned or bought from the school, I don't know.

How much do I care:

2

He also took my paperback copy of Eating an Artichoke: A Mother's Perspective on Asperger Syndrome by Echo Spring.  He didn't damage it at all.

How much would I have cared if he ate it:

7

We have learned over the years that old hardcovers are his favorite.  All early editions are on a top shelf in the closet where he can't get them.  We are a house of books though and he is bound to eat them from time to time.

Gap

I haven't figured it out yet, but there is something about the concept of a gap that I want to say.  It is fascinating to me, what might be in a gap.  It's like a magical (mythical?) place where anything can reside.  monsters, unicorns, IDEAS.

The gap between...

A gap is defined by what it is between, what it is not.  The width may be small, but the depth of the gap may contain infinite ideas.

hunter-gatherer

I was picking boysenberries again today.  I started thinking about how easy it was to eat them as fast as I picked them.  That got me to thinking of hunter-gatherer mommas picking berries for their families, and then I thought of the book Blueberries for Sal, which isn't prehistoric at all.  I imagined myself picking berries with my granddaughters on some prehistoric hillside.  I would pass along sage wisdom, which is why I would still be an asset even after menopause meant I wouldn't pass along any more genes, as we leisurely picked and ate the delicious ambrosia left after the birds had had their fill.

Then the irony hit me.  These boysenberries are the result of fairly recent crossbreeding done at U.C. Riverside.  They had no prehistoric life, and probably have no marketable future since they aren't a very good producer.

It won't write itself

I still am not quit of the humanities program.  I have one paper to write for a class I took an incomplete in. (That sentence sucks - try again) I took an "incomplete" in a class, and have one paper left to write.

After I wrote the first paper for the class, my instructor thanked me for writing a good paper.  She complained bitterly about some of the other students' writing abilities and styles.  All of my papers received positive feedback and often were top in the class.  So why...WHY...The final paper completely overwhelmed me.  I was intimidated by the length of the paper, the short time to write it, and the chance I might fail at writing it.

The funny, ironic, thing is that as the due date approached the instructor seemed to be losing her nerve as well.  She asked us to turn the papers in early if we could, in order to allow her more time to grade them.  She suggested we write shorter papers so she would have less to read.  By the end she was practically begging us to write papers less than half as long as the original assignment.

Obviously I should have just written something quickly and turned it in.  It's highly unlikely I would have received less than an "A".  Still I had already decided to take an "Incomplete" so I didn't consider her change in requirements as the opportunity it was.

Now, instead of being completely finished I'm trying to write this final paper.  And by "trying" I mean I'm blogging about it instead of actually writing it.  I've got a start.  Not a great start, but a start.  I've built it up to be so much more than it is.  I'm sure no matter what I write I'll at least get a "B".  Why not just slap it together, reread and edit, and send it off?  Why am I still overwhelmed by it?  I did a great job on all the successive papers in the classes that followed hers.

Grump.

bucket list

"Bucket list" a phrase that means the things one wants to do before they kick the bucket.  First of all how can "kick the bucket" be a euphemism for death?  It is such an ugly phrase.  Euphemisms should sound nicer than the thing they euphemize (not a word, I know).  I can't hear the word bucket without immediately connecting it to the memory of throwing up as a child.  Whenever I was really sick, mom would put a small bucket next to the bed. 

Kick the bucket - kick the can.  Kick the can was a great game.  Hide and seek crossed with capture the flag.  But then can is a slang for toilet.  Olly olly oxen free!

I am working on my "pony list".  This is what I've decided is my euphemism for bucket list.  I always wanted a pony.  Of course I always really wanted a 16 hand horse, but pony encompasses the little girl wistfulness better.