Windshield Woes

So the other day, I walked out of my house after lunch (yes, I am extremely lucky to live within 2 miles of work and get to go home for lunch every day) to go back to work to discover a very large crack in my windshield.  Not a small crack either, maybe 12 inches?  I had no rock strikes, and there was no pit to show the windshield had been struck, just this crack, right in the center, down at the bottom.

Kind of hard to see, but it starts below the wiper on the right and goes up to below the neighbors tree on the left.  Over the last couple of weeks, it grew another 6 inches, so I called the insurance company, who set me up with a well known glass place that was willing to come and replace it in the parking lot at work.  No issues, he gets there, I go and open the truck and head back into work where I can watch his progress from the window.  An hour and a half later, it kind of looks like maybe he's getting done, so I walk back out to check on him.  Nope, not even close.  I ask him to move the trucks into the back of the parking lot, since it's getting close to lunchtime and he would be in the way.  Long-story-short (because I'm really good at long-story-longer), 3 and a half hours from the time he started, he says he's done.  I get there to see broken glass all over the parking lot.  Apparently he had to shatter the windshield to get it out.  And he scratched the hood of the truck.  And he says the left A-pillar (the part that holds the oh-shit handle) needs to be replaced.  But no worry, he gave me free wiper blades and they will pay for the work.  Never mind the time it will take to have it all repaired, nor the fact that the air conditioner spit glass pieces at me this morning.

Moral to the story?  Hell, there is no moral.  I just have shit luck.

Also surprised to have my whole name listed on HorseNation in a story on how to break your phone at the barn.  My comment, that they published?  "Two words.  Boob sweat."  Yep...that's me.  Classy.

Happy Thursday!

Dreams and Aspirations

I had a dream last night.  Nothing too earth shattering, but important enough to me that I actually remembered it.  I don't remember all the details now.  You know how it is, you think you have it totally memorized and then it gets fuzzier and fuzzier until it's just a feeling rather than a memory.  But I do still have some of it.

It was about a little girl in a riding program that was going cross country schooling.  I'm not sure whose riding program it was or where, but that's not important.  It was a young girl on a little bay pony that was terrified but was going to do it anyway.  The trainer said to go and jump a warm up jump, and the little girl cantered off heading right to a small bank.  The trainer goes running after her.  The little girl's pony stops but the little girl doesn't fall off.  She is upset, however.  The trainer has a few words with her, points her in the direction of a couple of small (elementary) tables, etc., and the girl sets off with a determined look on her face.  She basically does a small course, all by herself, with no further issues.  When she is done, she gets off the pony, cleans up and puts the pony away and then goes back to a trailer.  I find the little girl there crying, talking to another adult.  I interrupt (how rude) and hug the little girl and tell her how proud I am of her, and how I wish I had her determination and pluck.  That I just let the fear of that stop keep me from trying at all, and while she may have had to try more than once, she didn't give up, and didn't blame her pony, and ultimately didn't fail.  Of course, in my dream, it sounded better, and the little girl felt all better and stopped crying, because my words have so much meaning to anyone else, you know.

Not going to go into the whole depth of "this was me and I was talking to myself" crap, because a dream is sometimes just a dream, but it did bring to mind that I have some cross country schooling to do while I have the chance.  I have a bit of fear about it right now, because I had so many falls in a row, but if I ever want to do this eventing thing, I need to get over that, and understand that sometimes, you have to try more than once to get what you want.  Maybe soon we can get back to this:

Because that shit is fun!

Bittersweet

After a weekend of driving up and back from Georgia, I stopped by the barn on Sunday to clean the pony up for her move back to my trainer, only to discover she did what all horses do when put out in wet conditions and pulled her left front shoe.  This is a horse that has only pulled one shoe in the 4 years she's been shod.  That time, she simply stepped out of it.  This time, she twisted it and actually took a piece of her hoof with it.  A small piece, but a piece all the same.  Luckily enough, the barn manager was able to locate the shoe (right next to the hay spot in the field) with nails and hoof piece intact.  I contacted my farrier, who was able to fit in a swing by the farm midday on Monday.  By 12:30, she was fixed up and good to go.

The bittersweet part of this is the move.  This whole move to the farm by myself was kind of to prove that I have the tools and ability to take care of Violet on my own.  Well, not totally on my own, since she is still boarded, but at least be able to keep her going without the constant oversight of my trainer.  While I have the tools and ability now, I do not have control over the weather and the footing at the farm.  Now it's been 5 weeks that Violet has basically been out of work, with the exception of once or twice a week lunging and 2 pretty bad rides.  With my impending surgery, it just makes sense to get her somewhere that she will get legged back up and her skin issues taken care of.  And it won't hurt that she'll get clipped while she's there.  And I can reclaim all the blankets that are hers that the trainer has in her stuff.

So Sunday I didn't bathe her the way I had planned.  She wasn't too dirty, and I figured it might make her skin worse.  I got the text that she was on her way, got out of work early and drove to the farm.  I got there about 5 minutes before the trainer did, just long enough to put on her shipping boots, but not long enough to get a picture, or to give her a quick brushing.  The trainer came it, we grabbed the box of tack, SmartPaks, Sweet Alyssa half pad and her fly gear and loaded it in the trailer.  She grabbed Violet's slow feed hay net (which she HATES, but keeps her from looking like a Thelwell pony) and I grabbed Herself.  Violet knows what the shipping boots mean, and when she saw her favorite 3 horse slant load, she was beside herself, prancing a bit while I asked her to wait for the hay bag to go in.  She basically loaded herself, with a smile on her face.

And off she goes.  I later got the following text "She arrived safe, happy, and already has Charlie nickering for her."  She is happy to be where she can be properly appreciated.  She has long been held as the prettiest in the barn by people, but certain horses in the trainer's barn have treated her this way all along, as opposed to those at the current barn, lol.  So now, I'm down to one lesson on Saturday.  But here's to a happy, healthy pony, and the ability to go on walks around the cross country field to warm up and cool down.  I have missed that.

Red-Headed Mares

Nothing to report.  I didn't get to the barn yesterday.  I actually won't get there again until Sunday, when I have to give herself a bath before the trainer comes to pick her up Monday.  She'll be entering boot camp soon enough, and we have a trip to Atlanta to make tomorrow.

When packing my house, I found this picture:

This was probably taken in about 1985 and is of my first pony.  Frisky was a half quarter/half arab that my uncle bred out of one of his father-in-law's quarter horses by his arab stallion.  She was born to a very old broodmare with no milk, so was bottle fed, which made her small and very social.  She topped out at 13.2, and was actually registered as a half arab palomino with the name Naash's Peppy Girl.  She would probably be considered a chestnut today.  She would follow me around, play tag and hide-and-go-seek.  I could lead her around the block without a halter.  I just couldn't really ride her.  She was a 4 year old half-arab when I was 10 and had about 4 months of lessons under my belt.  When I got to be a pre-teen, she was my best friend.  I would saddle her up and take her out in the woods and get lost and let her find the way back home.  She would stand outside my bedroom window and wait for me to come outside.  She was known to let herself into the house, until we had to put a fence up around the patio to keep her out.  When I was 14, my parents sold her.  She ended up going to pony finals, where she placed 5th in the medium pony hunters, although they changed her name to Devonshire Cream and told everyone she was a Shenandoah Welsh pony.  I lost track of her, but remember her fondly and wish I knew if she ended up living a long happy life.

But when I opened that envelope and saw that picture, I actually thought it was Violet at first.

See, not much different in color, and the same white face.  We have always made jokes about the fact that I like red-headed pony mares.  I guess that runs deep.  Not only that, but the red-headed pony mares have all been named appropriately:  Frisky, Sassy and The Cheeky One (Violet).  I'll get the pictures of Sassy up and tell her story another day.  In the meantime, enjoy the weekend and if you can, get out there and hug your horse.

For want of a trail

I made it out to the barn to see Violet yesterday.  She was happily outside eating hay with her friend Dakota.  She was none too happy about having to come inside.  Nothing too much to report.  The rain rot has subsided on the top of her rump, but is pretty vicious on the side of her rear leg and in her armpit where the girth goes.  Since she is coming back into work after having breathing issues, we just lunged for half an hour.

Yes, we are colorful.  And that is a stretched out ace bandage used as a Pessoa.  Hey, it works.  Reminds the little quarterhorse that she actually does need to move her back feet up under herself instead of running around on her front end all the time.  She only coughed once.  If there were trails to ride, I would have gotten on her, even bareback, just to ride her around a bit.  But we have none of those, and the ring is still wet, with another inch and a half of rain expected in the next two days.  At this rate, I will not get a chance to get on her prior to her move to Ocala on Monday.  Especially since it looks like a quick trip to Atlanta is in store for us to pick up the rest of the boy's belongings this weekend.  I am really looking forward to being able to take her for a ride around the cross country fields once we get there.  It will be nice to get out and stretch our legs without a ring fence.  And maybe we'll take another shot at the 18" coop of death...

Rainy days and moves

So, now we get to what's going on currently.  Not going to bore you with the non-horsey stuff today, partially because I am too pissed to discuss it in depth.  Long story short, the quest to get my old house ready for rental and actually making money continues to be...problematic.

As for the red-headed wonder, I managed to get her lunged on Monday.  We have not had much luck for the last month two months.  It started with her farrier nicking her frog when he shod her.  He didn't say anything and when we decided she was indeed lame, a vet was at the barn, so I paid $65 to have him put hoof testers on her.  Called the farrier to come out since we thought she had a hot nail.  He gets there and is like "oh yeah, I nicked her, but she wasn't lame or anything then, so I didn't say anything."  Good grief.  This is not my farrier of choice.  He retired, and this is his replacement.  My trainer also uses him, and when he came to see her the following week, he had the retired farrier with him.  Apparently, they both gave him what for, knowing that Violet will not complain when you do something to her, but is very sensitive when it comes to her feet.  I doubt he will make the same mistake.  But that did require a week of epsom salt baths and hoofpacks.  I did develop a hoof care bucket, and learned how to properly tape a diaper to the girls hoof, so that's good.  Everyone thinks it's cute that she uses the newborn diapers on her little dainty feets.

She was fine with the pampering, honestly, although you can't walk away from her with her foot in the bucket, or it will go flying.  She'll stand quiet all day if you are there with her, but go into the tackroom for one little thing and she's done.

We recovered from that only for her to develop hives from the bugs.  They didn't seem to bother her before, and she wasn't running from them or anything, but she was one big bump.  That required a little dex from the trainer and a course of benadryl.  Note to anyone out there, buy it in bulk from Sam's if you can.  800 pills for $6.  Of course, she doesn't mind taking it, because I usually give it to her with some beet pulp and maybe a little handful of her grain and water after we ride.  It's like second dinner!  And for a pony that gets basically a handful of grain twice a day, it's a big treat. (Let's just say she's an easy keeper).  And she gets turned out in her full fly gear, even though it's hot in St Augustine this time of year.  She goes out at night, and it IS September, after all.  Just keep an eye out for funk, are the instructions given to both me and the barn manager.

So cue the rain.  And the rain-rot, of course.  Pull the fly sheet, move the girl indoors, buy lots of rain-rot stuff, including tea tree shampoo and Banixx spray, and treat treat treat.  A little more dex for the discomfort.
At the same time, I'm off to the doctor (now that I've closed on my new house) to have a look at my foot.  Right foot has been bothering me for a while, but now is bothering me when I ride, and that's not ok.  And the left foot is starting to hurt as well.  I regularly end my nights with ice on both feet.  I go to the doctor and end up walking out like this:

Yes, I rebroke a fracture on my left foot compensating for something called a Morton's Neuroma on the right.  Left foot in a boot, right foot treated with a shot of dex.  Interesting that Violet and I were treated with the same stuff within two days of each other.  Boot for a month, and we'll see about the right foot.

So, back to the pony.  I got the rain rot taken care of but mother nature has decided we should be swimming here in Northeast Florida this year.

That far lake is Violet's field.  Needless to say, I can't put the poor rain-rotted pony with notoriously iffy feet out in that.  Three weeks later, we have gotten 9+ inches of rain, and still no sign of stopping.  But she looks good, and always does ok being in a stall.  She does have a small runout, so at least she has the ability to move and isn't stocking up or anything.  And I take her for hand walks when I can't get into the lounging ring.

Can't work in this...

So hand grazing it is.  Shiny pony.

And then the cough develops.  After a week, it's not getting better.  It's actually worse, and she doesn't work out of it.  I know it's because she's inside, but what do I do?  Cue the vet call.  Tells me what I already know, and gives another shot of Dex.  Pony is not allowed to be held inside except for meals.  Hay should be watered.  So out in the soggy mess she goes.  And she is not happy about it.  The princess does not like wet sogginess on her feet.  She stands at the gate and looks at me like "please?"  So now it's been a month and she has had like 6 days I've been able to work her.  Monday, I lunged, intending to just walk, just to see how the cough was.  No cough.  Trot?  No cough.  Canter (just once around)? Cleared her nose, but no cough.  So I think we are past that and now know that she must have better circulation than she gets in the solid wall stalls in the barn.  And it's still raining.  And the ring is still mucky, and they can't get the mower to the dressage ring, so lunging is what we can do.

A decision has been made.  She will go back to the showgrounds with my trainer.  Turns out I will have to have surgery on the right foot in a couple of weeks, which will keep me out of the saddle for a while.  Violet has blown a winter coat, and developed rain rot underneath of it, and her feet are constantly wet.  It will take a couple of weeks of dry to get the property to dry out, and I can hold my stall with a small portion.  Violet will get back into training, and the glorious trainer M loves her and will clip her and take care of her rain-rot, and she will be back with her friends, as will I.  It means only riding once a week, but it's better for her, and it's only for two months.  Hopefully I'll be back on my feet by then.  When I spoke with the boy about it, his response was "Do what you need to do for her.  I knew you were a horse-girl when we were kids, and you are still one now, and I get it."  He also made reference to the fact that I was so unhappy over the weekend because my entire team was at AECs and I wasn't.  It had been planned before he entered the picture that I would go with everyone else, just to groom and support, but finances did not permit that this time.  He knows it's important for me to reconnect with my team.  It's hard being the one that is separated.

So I'll go out today with the mind to do some more lunging.  Or maybe I'll just finish my clip job of her legs.  Because it's supposed to rain again this afternoon...

Welcome to my (non) horsey life

Yesterday, I posted about my horsey life.  Today, I'd like to take a moment to introduce the non-horsey part of my life.

The human players:

Myself:  40+ year old professional accountant "of a certain size" (read that as not the typical rider physique).  I have lived primarily in Florida; Jacksonville for the last 24 years.  I put myself through college, getting a degree in Finance and working in that for 10 years before going back to school to get my Masters in Accounting.  When you have an accounting degree, what do you do?  You work as a public accountant (auditor) of course.  I spent 5 years living out of hotels, traveling around the country.  The schedule killed the long-term relationship I was in.  I suddenly found myself living in my own little house, with nothing to keep me going other than work, and a cat that was more independent than she should be.  I had to make a decision: become a work-a-holic or find something else to do.  Work-a-holic I am not.  I am willing to do what needs to be done, but I wanted an identity that wasn't "auditor extraordinaire".  What else could I do...  I know, I'll take riding lessons!  I rode as a kid, had a pony in the backyard, showed some and loved it.  I was a pretty good pony jock back then, thinking of myself as more functional as a rider than pretty, but I always enjoyed it.  But now?  Well, truth be told, I was fat.  I needed something I could do as a "life sport" that would get me out of the house and away from the computer at least a part of the weekend.  So I chose to go back to what I knew and chose riding.  After that, I switched from audit to internal audit at a shipping company.  Within a year, I was promoted to Financial Reporting Manager, and that's where I am now.  I write exciting financial statements for about 14 different companies, consolidated and otherwise, US and abroad, and I act as the ledger police, which makes me the most popular person in the building (not).  I have a busy season that coincides with the Florida horse show season, so I don't get to do much of that.  I used to play softball on Sundays, but have had some medical setbacks that make that difficult for me right now.  

The boy:  The boy and I met 30 years ago at a youth retreat.

I was the older woman, being in 9th grade.  He was still in middle school, but he thought I was cute, and that was good. He lived in Pensacola, I lived in Gainesville. We kept in touch a little all through high school, would meet up occasionally at youth group events, but nothing big, at least not to me.  In college, after I broke up with my high-school sweetheart, and before I met up with the long-term relationship that didn't make it through my audit career, he looked me up after a short stint in the Navy.  He wanted to settle down, I wanted to enjoy college and being in a greek organization.  He lived in Tampa, I lived in Jacksonville.  He proposed, but would not wait until after I finished college, and would not move to Jacksonville, so we went our separate ways.  It was brief, but pleasant.  I didn't think about him again.  Until this March.  He looked me up on Facebook.  We started talking.  Within a week, he confessed that he went to every church event he could to try to catch up with me, that he never forgot about me, always thought of me as his, and was still in love with me.  I, of course, told him he was nuts.  He backed off, it took me 3 days to decide that what I have been doing the last 8 years since my last relationship broke off didn't work, and to give him a shot, since my heart was telling me he is a good man.  So I did.  To my mother's consternation, we are now engaged, have bought a new house and are renting out my old one, and he is on a seemingly never ending job search.  We are trying to figure out how this whole partnership thing is supposed to work, and how we are going to fit his 3 kids in, along with my horse stuff, but under everything is a current of love.  I do love this man.  And he totally understands the horse thing. Before we even got into this, we had a conversation in which he told me that he knew that horses were part of me, that they always had been, even when I wasn't actively riding, and that he didn't expect, nor did he WANT that to change.  After he met the "ladies" from the barn and got his first look at an event, he said it was obviously even more important that I continue to ride, and that he would love to come and jump judge with me or watch me show.  He has a weekly standing appointment at the barn with me, where he stands and talks to the horses through their barn doors, plays on his phone and watches me work. Is there any wonder why I love him?

So that is the story of me. My life right now is made up entirely with moving into our new house, work, pony and boy.