Becoming a Real Eventer

Photo credit Dean Graham

Ben came to me when he was three and I was clueless.  He was, already, at that age, a washed out race horse (too accident prone), a failed roping horse, a blown up barrel horse (hated the stress) and was not going to be a happy trail horse.  


He dropped me every day for a while.  He would jump sideways, and boom, there I’d be,  on the ground, with him looking down at me, like “hey mom, why are you down *there*?!”

We started jumping.   I had no idea what I was doing.  When I finally got to the right trainer, I had been trying to ride him by myself for two years and we had developed some, well, real issues.  One afternoon, during a light rain, she was clearly frustrated with our lack of improvement, and she ordered me off the horse.  She got on, and began to trot him around.  She rode for what seemed like forever, in that light rain, and didn’t say a word.  Finally, she rode up to me and flatly stated “I owe you an apology.”  When I asked why, she stated that she’d been yelling at me to do this or that, and had been really frustrated because I couldn’t or wouldn’t do as she asked.  Then she said, but “you can’t.  ‘Cause this horse doesn’t even speak the right language.”  Apparently, she said I made him look easy to ride, and yet, it was only because he and I spoke the same language -- a private one, developed between the two of us.  And definitely not correct.

So we started over -- and that wasn’t my trainer’s last day of frustration.  In fact, she often said I was the most frustrating student she taught because she had never seen anyone want to learn the sport more, who had to work so hard at it. (which was her way, I think, of saying that I had no natural talent, but a lot of “want to.”)

So, anyway, we started doing some stuff at  beginner novice, and even won one.  Flirting with a move up to Novice happened, but several attempts did not go well.  Stadium was always the tough part, but I had some issues - all rider ones, on xc too.  Ben flat LOVED running and jumping xc.  At BN and N, there was enough room between the fences that he could run along, mostly on his forehand, and still get it back in time to jump.  Some fences were still an issue (see, e.g., Poplar Place Novice, where there is a sequence of photos of me flipping over his head doing the down bank without him) and I always, always hated ditches.  But those were all rider issues -- he would have jumped xc alone if he was allowed to.
   

I’m not sure who was more nervous when I decided to try to go Novice at Pine Top, me or my trainer.   Dressage went well -- at least as well as it could for a QH who didn’t really want to carry himself!  It rained off and on, but stopped long enough that we got our test in.

Stadium?  Well, let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty.  I stayed on, got around, and survived, but the photos are AWFUL.  Ben's major objection to stadium was that he needed to balance and carry himself -- no long and low gallops to small obstacles. Yes, I still have the ugly pictures, and I ended up with 30 stadium penalties, but I was so glad to have survived!

Dressage and Stadium were on Saturday, and xc on Sunday.  I tacked up for xc, and I remember being scared after that horrid ride in stadium, but my horse was happy as we hacked over the bridge to xc warmup, and he was jumping great over the warm up fences.  The Wilsons have a great warmup area with natural fences, and Ben always did well there.  

It is funny how your memory plays havoc with you sometimes.  My favorite show at Pine Top has always been the Thanksgiving show, and I love the weather then -- usually fine “Irish weather.”  Misty and cold -- somehow it seems right and you can wear your wool coats for dressage and stadium and not be too hot.  One year at the November show, I gave myself the job of breaking the ice on the water jumps because the day started out at 17 degrees!  


The area in the Spring is terribly lovely, of course, but I really enjoy the fall.  I remember the day I ran xc as being cool and misty, but it was the September show and not the Thanksgiving show and I’m wearing short sleeves in the photo -- so obviously some memory editing took place!

We entered the start box and I can remember finding a calm peace as we turned to leave the box.  We started down hill towards the first fence and it felt as if we were flowing -- Ben always jumped as if his ears were a radar and he was honing in on the next fence.  A really cool feeling unless you were out galloping on a xc course just schooling and he locked onto an Advanced fence with that same sort of eagerness.  Um, no, not for us!

The course at Pine Top is one of my favorites.  It passes through fields, and woods and gives even the lower level competitor a chance to feel as if you are riding on a “real” course.  Ben was fantastic through the fence line and up to the bank -- I loved the way the jump was flagged here, as the up bank was where the flags were, and the down bank had to be negotiated, but since it wasn’t flagged as an obstacle, it was a great schooling opportunity, as you weren’t penalized for taking several tries to get it right, if needed.

We didn’t.  Ben hopped right off and headed for the next jump in the fence line, and then made a beeline for the woods.  He was so focused, and I was riding with the horse and not fighting him.  My trainer was standing on the top of the hill as we came out of the woods and jumped the next jump and she was so thrilled with how we were doing, she began to cry.

This lady NEVER cries. Ever.  So, I must have been doing something right if I pushed her to tears of joy! :)  The last fence on the course was in the fence line, heading right toward the crowd.  As we galloped up the hill and gave a great jump to that last fence, and I could hear all my friends cheering and clapping as we galloped through the finish, I finally felt it.  I may have only been doing Novice (which, let’s face it, is pretty small), and I had time penalties, even though I felt like I was flying, but I felt like a real eventer.  

Ben has been retired since 2005.  Seven years.  He will be 19 this year.  He still looks good, and is still my event horse, and he always will be.  I will never forget that feeling of galloping up the hill and through the finish, to the sound of a cheering crowd.  On the horse that many people said I shouldn’t ride, and more than one said I would never be able to ride.  He is my heart, and while it may not be a big accomplishment to some, that feeling that I had at the finish that day is something that can’t ever be taken away.  I was an eventer.  Finally.

I am starting a five year old now.  She’s got a super personality, and is a lot of fun to work with.  I don’t know what her job will be.  Will I event again?  I don’t know yet.

But I do know that in my heart, I’m an eventer.  And I always will be.

Old Cakes and Cake Carriers

I'm awfully attached to my Gramdmother's old fashioned aluminum cake carrier. It evokes memories of church homecomings and dinner on the grounds. Of family gatherings and funerals. Of Christmas and birthdays. I'm not sure how I ended up with it, but I'm glad I did.

 

We spent today cooking two old-fashioned cake recipes -- for years, my favorite cake has been a "little" layer cake -- one of the ones that has 7 or 14 skinny little layers and icing with a texture almost crunchy where the sugar is only just dissoved.  This is not a cake my mother made when I was growing up.  Neither is it one my grandmother made -- which probably adds to its exotic appeal whenever it was encountered at potlucks, or church, or the cake walk at the Fall Carnival.

Tonight, a 7 layer cake with crunchy, chocolaty icing is tucked away into the old aluminum carrier in my kitchen.  The site of it, nestled there next to the caramel cake, brings joy to my heart and feels like a comforting hand reaching across the years, to pat my shoulders and say, "my, what a beautiful cake!"

Afternoon Tea

I've taken to making time to have a cup of tea in the afternoons at work -- using it as a break from slogging through stuff that I have to make myself read, and I've found it a very agreeable habit to take up.

I've never liked coffee, and in fact have never much liked any drink that is hot.  I drink Tab by the gallon and though I've always thought the british custom of having tea was charming, I just couldn't get on board myself.

And then I met this stuff.  Ohmygoodnessgracious.  It is amazingly good. I've been jealous of my friends who can sashay into Starbucks and order a Chai Latte (actually, I'm jealous of any of my friends that can sashay, 'cause I have no sashaying skilz of my own) I can't have anything with milk in it, and so the trendy Chai Latte is out of my reach.  But, this, this deliciousness in a cup I can have.

I was surprised to find out that afternoon tea in England is a relatively recent tradition.  From www.anafternoontoremember.com I found the following on the etiquette and history:

History of the Afternoon Tea Party

While drinking tea as a fashionable event is credited to Catharine of Braganza, (the Portuguese wife of Charles II, who arrived in England in 1662) the actual taking of tea in the afternoon developed into a new social event some time in the late 1830’s and early 1840’s. Jane Austen hints of afternoon tea as early as 1804 in an unfinished novel. It is said that the afternoon tea tradition was established by Anne, Duchess of Bedford. She requested that light sandwiches be brought to her in the late afternoon because she had a “sinking feeling” during that time because of the long gap between meals. She began to invite others to join her and thus became the tradition.

About the time that we would have come home from school in the afternoon, and counted on a snack (usually whatever wonderful goodness Lula had cooked for lunch, left on the stove for us to enjoy) I find myself lagging in the afternoon and I'm thinking this may be the perfect way to find a pick me up and feel as if I have transported myself to the world of Downton Abbey in the same mug.

Afternoon Tea al fresco at Downton Abbey

    Sigh.