Alone

I went out to the barn today, looking forward to my first ride on Maddie in almost a week.  It was a horrible rainy day the horses were inside, so I had allotted plenty of time  for a nice long ride. However, there was one problem.  I was the only one there – and I don’t ride alone (just not safe in my opinion.)  No problem, I thought. I have some time to kill, and Maddie was pretty muddy.  I decided that a marathon grooming session would be a good way to pass the time until someone else arrived.

I curried (twice), brushed (thrice), picked her feet, picked clumps of mud out of her mane, but decided to bypass the dirty tail entirely.  And I was still alone.

So I shelved riding, and decided that a groundwork session was in order.   Picking up a longe whip, I took a sparkling Maddie into the arena and turned her loose.  My plan was to work on my ability to read her and influence her movements while at liberty.  In past lessons when we’ve worked on longing Christy has had me work on keeping the mare’s attention and controlling her movements from the ground.

Maddie was feeling frisky, and started trotting back and forth between the two barn doors that lead back to the barn.  She is always drawn to this end of the arena when she’s turned loose.   Standing between them (and at a safe distance of course) I started the session by preventing her from doubling back in front of the doors.  As she trotted by me going left, I extended my left arm (a cue I’ve been using with her when longing, to indicate the direction I want her to go), and flicked the whip with my right hand just as I could see her start to think about wheeling and turning back to the right.

It worked, and she kept moving left, circling around me.  I switched the whip into my left hand, extended my right hand, and stepped toward the place she was headed.   A ha!  Maddie changed direction neatly and went back around to my right.

We did this a few times until Mads decided that she was done trotting nicely, and took off bucking down one of the long sides, ignoring my cue to change direction.  She dropped into a canter, and I kept her going, cracking the whip and stepping quickly toward her hindquarters when she went to wheel and go the other way.  When her canter became more relaxed, she actually stretched low, bringing her back up and maintaining a really nice, balanced canter.  I asked her to switch directions, and moved her into a canter again.  There was some more bucking, and I sent her forward, making her do a complete circuit around me and not allowing her to change directions.  On her next pass, as she looped toward the middle of the arena cantering to the right, I decided to see if I could get her to change direction, quickly switching the whip to my right hand, and stepping quickly in the direction she was heading.  She tried to barrel by me, so I gave the whip a sharp crack and extended my left arm.  Mads wasn’t too happy but she executed a neat rollback, and a flying change of lead, and went the other direction.  Her inside ear was on me, and I had her attention, so I asked her to change directions again as she approached the other side of the arena.  We managed two more of these cantering changes of direction, working a serpentine down the length of the arena!   Best of all, she was licking and chewing the whole time, which is horse language for “Yes, Boss. Anything you want, Boss.”

She had been working pretty hard so I said “easy” and she dropped into a fancy, fancy trot – uphill and extended.  I gently kept her going in a big circle, and Maddie treated me to show of the entire range of her trot.  She rounded, she stretched, she extended, and even collected, keeping her back up and staying round of her own volition.  It was thrilling to watch and I really regretted leaving my iPhone back in the barn, otherwise I would have grabbed some video.

As she trotted I kept moving her around, changing directions and moving the arc of her circle.  She listened well, and stayed attuned to me.  I brought her to a walk, then a halt.   I called her to me, and gave her a much deserved head scratching.   Even though we didn’t ride, I was really happy with how well we worked.  Good mare!

Leg yields, finally.

A step of leg yield! Notice how Maddie's inside hind is stepping inside the track of her inside fore.

For tonight’s lesson, I asked Christy to pick up where we left off yesterday – I wanted to focus on continuing to hone the mare’s responsiveness.  But first, we had to work through a pronounced reappearance of my bad habit of giving away one rein while hanging onto another.   So first, we went back to steering with the outside rein, while giving with the inside rein – but giving by moving my arm forward, rather than letting the rein slip through my fingers.  Christy had me imagine that I was holding a crop with my thumbs, and keeping my hands even, rather than letting one creep back near my hips.  That trick worked well.

So we moved onto lateral work.  I’m happy to report that last night wasn’t a fluke!  I put the mare to work, keeping off the rail and making deliberate turns, keeping her connected to the outside rein, and then yielding out on a circle. Once again, we had some nice moments, and the mare was pretty (though not perfectly) responsive.  However, she was responsive enough, and I was a little jelly-legged after a mid-lesson bolting spook that I was able to somehow ride.

This isn’t a pretty picture, but you can see that her back has come way up, and that she’s stepping inside with her right hind.

We worked in both directions, and got some particularly nice work going left. Again, we started on a circle, and spiraled in and out, taking a step or two of leg yield as we spiraled away from the center.

I decided to see if I could keep it together down the quarter line:

Mission to leg yield accomplished!

I still need to work on her responsiveness – but I feel like we’re headed in the right direction after these rides.  Progress is motivating!

The sharper the knife, the less you cry

Cooks have a saying:  the sharper the knife, the less you cry.  Sharp knives are easier to handle and less dangerous than dull blades – they slice effortlessly through veggies and meat.  A dull knife, on the other hand, is more dangerous, because it requires more effort of the user to achieve the desired effect.  And like a sharp knife is easier to use, a responsive horse is easier to ride effectively.

This saying came to mind tonight as I was leading Maddie back to the barn after a lesson, and grinning like a fool because it had been a good ride.    I told Christy that I wanted to work on my lower leg aids, namely, my ability to use my spurs accurately. I had strapped them on last night for the first time in months, and some irritated behaviors from the mare told me that I had inadvertently banged her with them a couple times. While my leg position is much improved, I still revert to my old  “toes out” posture when I get tired.   Developing awareness and acuity with the spurs requires me to continue to improve my leg position and stability.

So as I warmed up, I practiced deliberately putting my lower leg on,  releasing, putting my spur on and releasing.  However, as I did this I wasn’t getting much of a response from the mare.  I was also having trouble dropping my heals and holding a good position – my hips were tight, and probably a bit tired from two strenuous rides yesterday, and my earlier ride today on Oliver.   After promising Christy that I’d continue to work on my flexibility and strength, I took the spurs off.

So the lesson changed course. As we worked on my leg position and aids, which were partly successful some of the time, Christy told me that I was reverting to my bad habit of curling my heel upward, sticking it in the horse’s side and leaving it there.  I focused on being more deliberate with my aids.

However, I wasn’t getting the response I was seeking.  Unsure of whether or not I was eliciting a response because I guess I forgot what a correct leg yield felt like, I asked Christy watch for response while I attempted to leg yield out on a circle.   I got a big  fat nothing. We talked about it a bit and I told Christy that I wanted the horse that I started riding last May.  Mads was so light and sensitive then, and would respond instantly to any aid.  And I’ve dulled her responses.

So we started working on redeveloping a response,  We started at the walk.  Christy asked me to back up any requests I made of the horse with the whip, but advised me to treat any response – a head toss, a break to trot or canter, as good and to praise it, and to ride it.  My first opportunity came quickly as Mads ignored me when I tightened my leg against her.  I gave her a little whack with the whip and she hopped into a trot.  “That’s fine,” Christy said, as I half-halted and brought Maddie back to a walk.  We repeated this a few times, and within a few minutes, we produced a nice little leg yield down the quarter line!

Christy had us move into a trot.  I got the mare moving in a nice forward gait with good contact.  I asked for a leg yield on a 20 meter circle, and didn’t get a satisfactory response.  I gave the mare a little swat, and she propped and swished her tail – and went strongly forward. “That’s fine,” Christy called to me. “You need to get her in front of your leg!”

We continued on the circle at an energetic and connected trot.  “You have her undivided attention now,” Christy said as we breezed around her.  And she was right.  The mare had one ear back on me, and was steady in the bridle. I asked for the leg yield again, and … Maddie floated outward.  There it was!   I was thrilled.

I went to change directions, and as we moved off in a trot, Christy asked me what I thought of the upward transition.  There was no denying it, it was pretty crappy.   We half-halted and walked, and I asked for the trot, reinforcing it with a tap of the whip.  The mare stepped off immediately.   This was better.  We tried it again, and I asked for more enthusiasm, by being a bit more emphatic with my leg aids, but not touching the whip.  She went straight forward, into contact, with no head shaking or nonsense.  “That’s good!”  said Christy, as I let the mare trot on.  “Now, how light can you make your aids, but still keep that immediate response?”

We walked, and after a minute, I closed my legs softly on the mare’s sides.  She struck off in a nice trot right on the spot.

This was a seminal lesson,and an empowering one.  I can fix my forwardness and responsiveness issues if I align my mental intent and my aids, and take care to reinforce my aids with whip or spurs if (and only if) necessary.  I was amazed at the progress we made in one short ride.  I can’t wait to get back in the saddle, and continue to hone and sharpen my aids, and Maddie’s responses.  One thing I need to remember though is to stay consistent.  To do otherwise is unfair to the horse.  I need to ride every transition crisply, encouraging and rewarding prompt response, and reinforcing my aids clearly when needed.

I’m beginning to understand

She's just so dang pretty.

I’m happy to report that I made good progress with respect to re-installing the forward gears in the mare.  Her motto tonight was “Ask and ye shall receive.”

Christy was in between lessons and gave me a few minutes’ coaching, and with her encouragement, we got there – in both directions.   And once I got the mare connected and over her back, following Christy’s instructions to leg yield out on the circle was surprisingly easy.

Getting to the good gait still a process for me.  Mads (and frankly, any horse) requires me to ask and ride correctly, but when I get my act together and my ducks in a row, and actually manage to ride the mare effectively, back to front – well, wow.  She gives me the most amazing gait, pushing powerfully from her hind end.  It feels entirely different from her trot when she’s less engaged.   When Mads is over her back and pushing with those hind quarters, the it feels like we have rocket boosters – you can really feel the oomph and thrust coming from those big muscles in her hiney. It’s the same feeling you get when you’re on a plane that’s barreling down the runway for take-off, when you feel those engines pushing the plane forward – you can feel that power behind you very specifically.   This is the trot that Christy calls “the trot that has a canter – or a walk – in it.”  That’s a good analogy, because in order to produce this gait, a few things need to be happening:

  • I’m pushing her into the outside rein – and holding that contact – with an active inside leg.
  • I’m driving her from behind, asking for more step.
  • I am softening the inside rein.
  • My posture is straight, my leg is long and draping, my shoulders are back – in other words, I’m sitting up and riding.
  • I’m inviting the bigger gait from my seat by posting further out of the saddle.
  • I’m using half-halts actively to encourage roundness and engagement of the hind end.
  • The contact is elastic – I’m holding it, but am also inviting the mare to go forward and maintain flexion.  However, I also have to “catch” the power coming over her back in the contact, creating a loop of power, balance and contact in which the rider supports the horse and encourages an even better gait.

What I’m beginning to understand is that this powerful, forward gait needs to be a constant state for us, not a fleeting occurance.   I’m sure that the well-ridden dressage horse is always in this forward state of mind, encouraged by a rider able to generate the power and maintain necessary balance. This was a light bulb moment for me .  This is what it means to truly ride forward.

More blogging! And riding!

Over the next week or so I’ll be riding my friend Stephanie’s horse while she’s on vacation.  She blogs over at Dressage Adventures, and I’m recording my rides on Oliver there.

Oh what a night!

Developing a stretchy trot

Today was chilly, but the temps climbed throughout the day, and by the time I headed to the barn, it was a balmy 10 degrees.  That’s 22 degrees warmer than last night, and it felt pretty good.

After my impromptu ride with Liz last night, I wanted to ride again.  I was expecting the footing to be frozen, so I decided to set up a little obstacle course to give the horse something different to look at.  I pinged Liz and Christy, and we made a riding date.

Happily the footing had actually improved over the course of the day. I set up the obstacles anyway – variety is always a good thing.   I put out a couple raised poles, laid a pole between two jump standards that looked like gates, and arranged four cones in a zigzag pattern.

We cranked the tunes, and Maddie and I joined Liz and Christy in the arena, admiring the boys’ matching sheets.  Aren’t they handsome?

We took our time warming up.   I moved the mare around, marveling at how mellow she was, despite being cooped up for a few days.  Liam and Cloud were also model citizens, and we joked about our hot and crazy TBs as we rode around on the buckle.

My plan for the ride was evolving – the footing was decent, and I was wearing more appropriate attire (my Mountain Horse full seat insulated riding pants – they’re extremely warm.)  We started out curving around the cones, walking through the gate, and high-stepping over the raised poles.

We moved off into a trot, and I made an effort to get the mare moving.  I wasn’t asking for a big, forward trot, but I did want her to round and track up.   She fussed a bit and was bracing.  I sat up an rode, giving her a whack with the whip that I’m sure she barely felt thanks to the thick quarter sheet draped over her hindquarters.  However, that got her attention, and she started to come into my hand and quit the fussing.

As I was gaining Maddie’s cooperation, I kept an eye on Christy.  I don’t get to watch her ride as much as I’d like to, and I’m always curious to see what she’ll do.  Tonight, she was really just letting Liam stretch, and he appreciated it, trotting enthusiastically around the arena, doing laps of stretchy trot.

Starting to stretch

As I developed better contact and a rounder horse, I started to stretch her down.  I’ve not ridden a lot of stretchy trot – it makes me feel a bit vulnerable and I’m not fully comfortable with it.  It’s something I need to practice. Mads started to stretch, while also staying on the bit.

I concentrated on holding the outside rein, and playing gently on the inside rein to keep myself from holding it to heavily (a bad habit I have) and to encourage the mare to continue to stretch.

I really wanted to keep her on the bit, near vertical, and keep driving her forward as we stretched.    As we went around, I heard something beautiful, and it wasn’t the radio.  It was Christy, saying that we looked good.   That was music to my ears, because Christy doesn’t offer empty compliments.

Unbeknownst to me, she had taken out her phone and started recording some video.  I’m glad she did – it was nice to see our work.

Getting a better stride ...

I continued to encourage her with my inside leg while feeding her rein.  I’m going to have to bite the bullet and get warmblood length reins – I hit the buckle before she was as low as I wanted her to go.  I had to stretch my arms to give her more room.  We didn’t get all the way there, it wasn’t a stretch that would get a good score in the ring, but I was happy.  The trot quality was good, and she was over her back and nicely on the bit.  I’ll take it, on a 10 degree night.

Our best work of the night. Mads is round, on the bit stretching and tracking up. Yay!

And the video clip of the stretching (thanks again, Christy.)

The fun didn’t end there.  Liz was riding Cloud bareback, and they looked fantastic.  Christy pulled Liam’s saddle off, and joined her.  They both have such nice, balanced seats, and they stay in tune with their horses as they trotted and cantered.  They tried some peer pressure, trying to get me to try going bareback on Maddie. I wasn’t quite ready for that tonight – I still need to master trotting and cantering without stirrups.  I did promise to pull the saddle in a lesson sometime soon.   I’ll let you know how that goes!

Making lemonade

The thermometer was hoovering near zero late this afternoon when I shut my laptop down, pushed back from the desk, and started to consider my trip to the barn.  The second day of extremely frigid temperatures in a row, I knew that the horses stayed in today, and I suspected that the footing in the arena would be frozen.   So I dug out my warmest long-johns – the thick, waffle-weave kind – and over them put a pair of too-big jeans so I’d be comfy.  I added more layers – a turtleneck and a thick fleece jacket.  I stuck toe-warmers in my boots, swaddled my head in a fleece headband, wool stocking cap and a long scarf, and dove into my coat.   Grunting, I struggled to put on my boots, as all the layers were rendering me close to immobile.  I grabbed my keys and waddled out to my car.

Upon arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to see the barn lights glowing – normally, I’m the only lunatic that goes out on sub-zero nights.  However, I was in good company tonight – Liz, a fellow Packer fan and OTTB owner, was visiting Cloud.  Turns out the arena footing wasn’t too bad, and she was riding.

Hmm. What the heck, I decided, pulling a sleepy Maddie out of her stall.  Hanging out inside makes her mellow, if you can believe that.  She dozed while I scurried around, picking her hooves, surveying the filthy, frozen mess she made of her tail (I still don’t know what she got into, and, frankly, I don’t want to know) and tacking her up.  I tucked her quarter sheet around her fanny, and plopped my freezing cold helmet on my head.  Happily, I had warmed up sufficiently and removed my coat – one less layer was a good thing at this point.

Mounting was interesting.  In addition to feeling like a mummy, my too-big jeans kept slipping down around my hips, resulting in a poor (and monstrously unflattering) imitation of the urban-youth-pants-down-around-the-knees look. I hiked up my pants, clambered up the mounting block, and finally when the mare (and the pants) stayed put, I got on.

The arena footing was definitely iffy in areas, so as I let the mare snort and stretch, I went through my options.  I still wanted a to have a productive ride.  But, given the footing, the freezing air and my woeful attire, it wasn’t a good night to work hard, and focus on moving the mare forward.   Still contemplating my options, I thought about a recent blog post Christy did, telling about a ride on Liam during which she worked exclusively at the walk.

I decided that responsiveness would be the rule of the day.  As we warmed up, I started asking for bend from my seat, and threw in a lot of random halt transitions.  We practiced (semi-successfully) staying round in the halt, and the upward and downward transitions. As we walked, I also tried to keep Maddie really busy.  She has the unfortunate habit of sticking her tongue out when we walk.  I’ve found that the best remedy is to keep her focused and working.  I also worked on left bend, being sure to give my left rein.  This went pretty well, though there were some incidents of bracing and mare foolishness.  However, we got through it, and even got some nice circles and shoulder in – we had some moments of good contact and stretch, which were encouraging.

I trotted Mads a bit, not asking for much from her but insisting on responsive, right now transitions, and also asking her to stay round and stretching.  We moved around as much as we could, but there were some patches in the middle of the ring that were pretty solid, and after one pass, Mads (who is barefoot) made it clear that those patches didn’t feel good, so I tried to avoid them for the rest of the ride.

To mix things up a bit, and to keep working on responsiveness, we practiced a variety of transitions – trot/halt, halt/walk/halt, halt/trot/halt etc. Mads was fairly well attuned to me and again, we had some nice moments, but she was also distracted by some barking dogs and a horse kicking the walls in the back aisle, adjacent to the arena.  I got after her but not to the degree I would have had we really been working, and I was less happy with how I handled that part of the ride.

All in all, riding tonight was a pleasant surprise.  I’m glad I did, because even though it was a pretty gentle ride, it was more exercise for the cooped-up mare.  And tomorrow, well, let’s just say the prospects are grim. It’s going to be crazy cold tonight, and I’m certain that footing is going to freeze.

The mare is waiting, and watching.

Back in the barn, I groomed Mads, put her heavyweight back on, and stuck her in her stall.  She hovered near the door, ignoring her hay and telegraphing what can only be described as pathos with her tragic expression. What was her problem? Ah, well, you see, upon arrival at the barn, I had whipped up a batch of her nightly mare mush, a glorious concoction of beet pulp shreds and alfalfa cubes, soaked in hot water until soft, fluffy and steamy, and then laced with molasses.  Mads needs to gain a little more weight, and in extremely cold weather like this, getting some extra hydration into the horse’s system is a bonus.  That’s all well and good, but then I went and set the steaming bowl of mush on my trunk to cool.  Right outside Maddie’s stall.

So close, and yet, so far away.

She stared disconsolately at the mush, inhaling the delicious fumes.  I finally relented and (after testing the temperature) gave the poor starving mare her mush.

It is soooo good. At least she seems to think so.

Satisfied, I headed home.  I was feeling  pretty good until my car told me it was -12 degrees outside. Yikes!

Go forward. NOW.

Well, I got my butt kicked tonight.  And that’s just fine – don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.  In my lesson tonight, Christy set out to illustrate to me the degree to which I have a lack of forward.   After we warmed up, Christy ratcheted up our trot work, tightening the screws with every turn of the arena.  It wasn’t until Maddie spooked that I got some decent, forward trot.  As I took a quick walk break, Christy pointed out to me how hard I had been working.  “I saw you kicking. I heard you clucking.  You got nothing from her, except ‘the hoof!’ ”  (which is our euphemism for a horse giving you the bird.)

Christy was right – I was working hard to get anything – bend, contact, leg yield – from the mare.  And the biggest problem was the fact that I didn’t have her moving sufficiently forward.  As a result, everything was more difficult.

Panting, we did some more trot work. Mads continued to be spooky and stupid at one end of the arena, so I put her to work, doing smaller, 12M circles and figure-8’s.  As I got after her, I could feel her back come up, and the noises from the middle of the arena took an approving tone.

“There! Nice!” said Christy.  I was remembering to use my half-halt, to balance the trot. “That’s a round horse!”

I was also using the whip.  It’s been a while since I even touched Mads with it.  Tonight, I gave her a couple good smacks when my requests for more forward were ignored.  She hopped forward, and maintained the increased pace pretty well.    But, as Christy noted, Mads has become as dull as a doorknob.   Reminding her that I have the whip, and will use it, will be necessary as we re-establish our forward gears.

Tonight’s lesson was a great illustration of how lax I’ve allowed Maddie to become.   Though we’ll probably have the next few days off due to super-frigid temperatures, I’m hoping to ride Friday, and get back to work.  It’s time to move forward!

A fresh start

I believe that Winston Churchill is credited with the saying, “The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.”  Today was my first ride after a two week hiatus, and boy, it felt great.   It wasn’t an eventful or even particularly sophisticated ride.   But I am happy to report that my position is still solid, and I remember how to steer (with my inside leg and outside rein!)

I decided to capitalize on the time off by trying to erase the left-rein-hanging issues I’ve been having, hoping that the time off would also diminish learned responses from Maddie.   So, I made a very focused effort to stay.off.that.left.rein while also not giving away the right rein.   Going counterclockwise, I held that outside rein, kept my inside leg active, and made a point of giving the contact in the left rein continually.

Mads was clearly appreciative, stretching very nicely into contact.  I encouraged her, giving her rein and riding her in a lower frame (we both need to regain fitness), and we went around with nice contact, and more importantly, a marked lack of neck-bracing and rein-hanging.  Toward the end of the ride, I was really able to get her moving, adjusting her gait with half-halts, and alternately asking her for bigger and smaller strides.  Despite the time off, she did really well, bringing her back up and rounding very nicely.  I do love how sensitive this mare is, and wow, she really takes a half-halt well.

I’m looking forward to our ride tomorrow, and then am hoping to re-establish my routine this week, starting with a lesson on Monday.  However, the weather doesn’t look like it’s going to cooperate fully – we have another stretch of hellaciously cold weather coming mid-week.  My personal cut-off is 10 degrees – below that, I’m not interested in riding.  But those cold nights are good for groundwork, so we’ll likely have some un-mounted work on Tuesday.

 

Winter daze

The horses have been stuck inside for several days now, due to the blizzard that managed to shut Chicago down earlier this week, and super-frigid temperatures today.  I think they’ll go outside tomorrow, which won’t be a minute too soon for Mads.  The big girl is bored.

I turned her out in the arena after taking her blanket off, thinking that a good roll would feel pretty good.  Mads instead strolled around the arena, even going into the corner that she sometimes spooks at (it’s full of jump poles, and birds like to sit among the poles, can’t really blame her,) sniffing the jumps, but she didn’t roll, and she didn’t run around like a nut.

After she toured the arena, she walked over to where I was perched on the mounting block.  She sniffed me head to toe, and lipped at my jacket.  Then she sighed, and walked a few steps away.  The mare was bored.

I dug around in a corner, and pulled out an exercise ball that Jag used to play with.  Mads has shown little interest in the ball when I’ve showed it to her previously.  However, I remembered that the only time that Jag was really motivated to play with toys was when he had been stuck inside for several days.  He wasn’t interested when he had enjoyed a day outside.

I dribbled the ball around the arena, soccer style.  Mads pricked her ears, and watched.  I scooted the ball toward her, eliciting a tail-in-the-air prancing response.  I kicked it a little closer to her. Curious, she sniffed.  And then, she bonked the ball with her nose, sending it back toward me just as I started this video:

I kicked it back toward her, and she started to nose it around in earnest, following it around the arena.   We repeated this a few times – she seemed to really enjoy the new experience, and I like seeing them scoot balls around, it gives them a great long-and-low stretch.

Maddie wasn’t as enthusiastic as Jag.  Now, there’s a horse that really likes his playtime.

And this one, playing with a jolly ball.  Clearly, he’s not head shy.

Tonight – and looking back at Jag’s funny videos – is a reminder to me how important it is to keep our Thoroughbreds mentally stimulated.  They are bright, inquisitive horses, and I could see the change in Maddie’s demeanor when I brought her in from her playtime.  Especially when they’re inside for a few days, changing up the routine is a good idea.

Snowbound

The last couple weeks have been frustrating, to say the least.  I was away on a business trip, and upon my return I was absolutely decked by a one-two bronchitis-sinusitis punch.  So, it’s been better than a week and a half since I crawled aboard a horse.  And now, a blizzard, complete with high winds and white-out conditions.  I’m not going anywhere for a few days.   My next opportunity to ride will be Saturday.

I did go out to the barn last night to see Mads, who I was really starting to miss. I groomed her thoroughly, and wow, she’s really starting to shed.  It must have felt good, because she’s normally pretty squirmy when I groom her, but she stood quietly through several curryings, and then four separate brushings, from hard to dandy to soft to goat hair.  She loves the goat hair face brush, and liked being groomed all over with it – a lot.

We hung out quietly, me scratching her ears and poll, her pushing her head against my chest asking for more.   Treats were administered, more scritches applied to itchy spots.  She got a big bucket of “mare mush” (hot beet pulp and alfalfa cubes) and I tucked her in.   I would have preferred to ride, but I’m still coughing spastically at the least exertion.  So we just hung out, and worked on the friendship.  She was OK with that.