Hola! Sweet Hola.

Look who arrived this evening!! Hola! (Hello!) Sweet Hola girl!

She isnt officially home yet, but she is within reach... She's being layed over just across the border (in the US) until her health certificate arrives (it didnt come when it was suppose to) and then I can take her across and she'll be come Canadian, eh!

It has been ten months since I saw Hola last. At that time she was just a few days old. I expected her to change some. But she hasnt. She has grown up a lot, no doubt, but she retained that sweet sweet energy and lovely calm disposition. It took all of about a minute for me to fall in love with her all over again.

Shhh! I know what you are thinking... Shhh! Shh! Dont say it! Dont say it... I refuse to even think about that "s" word right. I cant possibly even think about that right now. Let me live in the bubble where I get to keep her forever and ever okay? Just for a little while longer.

Heaven help me.

Heeelllllooooooo!

Heeelllloooo!!! Hello hello!

Late this afternoon I hope to hear a "hello" in return (proverbially speaking) from a certain someone...

... Someone Who is currently traveling Westward to meet me...

*hint* I might hear that hello in a different language!

Sorry...

I'm really not trying to leave you guys hanging... my DB's brother passed away yesterday so I just havent had time to finish writing the next post in that series. It was just about finished before everything happened so I should get it up within the next day or two.

Marmalade- The History

Marmalade is 12 year-old AQHA mare owned by the lady I board off of (who is now a good friend). The first year L owned Marm she did not ride much, besides walks around the field and arena and some ground work clinics with a local trainer as they were busy with a move and building a new house. Then, in the Fall of 2010 I moved in and all hell broke loose:) Okay, not really. But by early last year L, Marm, Ella and I were riding together on a consistent basis and had begun venturing further from home and in to more challenging environments. It was at this time that Marm and L's issues came to a head.

What were their issues? Well... it is kinda hard to explain...

It would be oversimplifying things too much to say that she was jiggy, high-headed, hard-mouthed and anxious. And the hardest part has been that she really didnt want to stop.

L is a good little rider. She has soft hands, (in spite of having a horse that wanted to bulldoze her way through everything), a solid seat, and (most importantly) an open mind, plenty of guts and the grit to follow through. The problem was that L was so frustrated with Marm that it had become a battle of wills... or maybe more like an epic war of wills and at that time L didnt have the strategy or ammo to take that bitch down. Whatever the reason or cause, whether it was Marm's baggage from previous owners or lack of riding before L purchased her, or from some physical issue, the end result was that Marm had this resistance that wasnt making for a very pleasant ride. One afternoon L and I were riding, or rather I was riding while Marm and L were on the cusp of waging world war three, when (through gritted teeth) L. asked, "How do I make her stop and slow down?"

At first blush it seemed the issue was as simple as it was common, Marm wanted to push forward with her shoulder and L was pulling her back to gain control which was creating a vicious circle of resistance and hardness in them both. I was all to happy to jump in with some advice. You can go ahead and picture my keen eyes and cocky grin as I puffed up my chest, spit on my palms, rubbed my hands together and jumped in fully expecting to get the problem fixed and finished in no time. Little did I know...

A year later... And the hard truth is that Marm still doesnt want to stop and still wants to plow forward with her shoulder. Now, if I were you I'd be reading this and be thinking, "That's a super simple fix! I can fix that in a few minutes!" No shit Sherlock. That's what I thought.

That first day I truly expected that, with just a little help, L would have Marm in hand in no time. Actually, to be perfectly honest I expected that within about ten minutes she'd be stopping on a dime. I wouldnt have blamed L one bit if she'd gone home that night feeling a little smug in thinking, "Not as easy as it looks, is it, hotshot?!"

It would take me approximately forever to write out every technique we tried and every new idea we've thrown at this problem over the past year but needless to say it was many, varied and not without a few small triumphs or a few epic failures.

Early on we looked for a physical reason. L enlisted the help of her vet, who found that Marm was tender on her front feet but otherwise sound in hips, hocks, back, shoulders, teeth, etc.. Her front feet have been treated and seem to be much better. Marm's saddle did not fit well but luckily we were able to find a good fitting saddle in short order. Marm was also taken to two chiropractors, both of whom found, shockingly, that she did not have any serious issues, tenderness or pain. Marm was started on Recovery EQ just to help her overall well being and her weight is, if anything, on the lean side (she is fed only local hay, no grain and shows no fatty deposits or other signs of IR) For the first six months or so I was dead set on trying to find a physical reason why Marm was so resistant to stopping and why she wanted to jig/mad trot. We found nothing.

To say that this situation has been frustrating is an understatement. Even though I wasnt alone in this, by any means, it still felt like a personal failure. This Fall L and I did a clinic with a really awesome trainer who I honestly thought was going to have Marm figured out in a minute flat. I welcomed the moment she said, "This is how to fix it." and I could slap myself on the forehead and move on. As expected, the trainer seemed to feel she had a simple and quick fix. She threw a highly effective technique at Marm and expected it to work. It did. A little itty bitty bit. I think that the trainer thought it was an issue of timing and that L wasnt getting it right. So this trainer got on Marm. Again I expected that she'd have no problem at all. But that "ah-ha" moment never came. While there is no doubt she made a big impact on gaining control over Marm's shoulder and mind, ultimately, we did not find the root of the problem. We had just found a more effective band-aid.

After that clinic I think L felt really frustrated. She had watched a talented trainer struggle to get through to Marm. I think we both felt like we didnt stand a chance. Obviously, in the perfect world, it would be great to send Marm up to the trainers and hope to get her back fixed but it is hard to justify that expense when Marm is...

...a pretty damn nice mare. She will stop... eventually. She stands well under saddle (she'll happily camp out while we shoot the shit for an hour). She is confident and good minded in new places. She is very respectful on the ground and overall just a GOOD mare who is an absolute pleasure to be around. If you want her to walk she might jog but she isnt going to take off on you. If you want her to jog she'll do a mad trot but you dont have to fight to keep her from loping. Other than the fact that she trots like a bat out of hell, has very little rate and you have to pull her face off to get her to stop once she gets going she's a pretty well broke mare who neck reins, side passes, can turn on her haunches, forehand, and will lope a nice circle (to the right). I never feel scared on her and I trust her. I love Marmy. So does L. In reality her behavior is not that bad... It is hard to describe just what Marm does, how totally locked up her body feels, how rigid in her poll and tight in the jaw she gets and how even though she hasnt galloped off, she is still running away in her mind. It isnt just that her rate within a gait is non- existent, it is how obstinate she is about giving an inch... it is that the overwhelming feeling of resistance within her.

A few months ago L. traded reins. I took over Marm and she took over Ella. Between Christmas and the big dump of snow we had in January I havent been able to ride Marm much. That is not to say we havent made progress. I finally had an "ah-ha" moment on Marm back in December. I always thought that in order to fix things we had to find what was at the core of this problem. I so wish that I could turn back time and start over from the beginning. Every tool we used, our very focus in trying to get Marm in hand did nothing but reinforce and cement the cause of her issue. I think. I hope. We'll see.

What is at the heart of the issue? I'll tell you my best guess, the principle I've focused my whole plan of attack around, next time. Till then, I welcome your guesses:)

Hola, a YEARLING!

That'd be my wee little Hola on the right (red), a yearling already! Where has the time gone! I am tickled pink with the way this filly is turning out... *deep sigh*... Why is she for sale again? Oh right... responsibility, budget, desire to travel... blah blah blah... The pyramids aren't going anywhere right? I can get another job... I dont have to tell DB...

*taps fingers on desk as she plots*

The Derby Reining Style!

This isnt new but I had to share...




I love the discipline of reining but I sure wish it all looked like that much FUN!!

Ride Like a Man

Between the weather and the madness of the holiday season I haven't been able to ride much this past month. I am hoping that this week I can get back in the saddle and spend some quality time getting Ella (and me) back in to shape. Over the couple months I am going to be working on cleaning up and fine tuning the basics of the foundation we worked so hard to establish last year. Ella has a great stop, she guides well, she is light in the face, I can move her shoulder and hips around, and her transitions are smooth. She has buttons. The problem is Ella has a habit of dogging it, or rather, I've created an environment where she lacks motivation, enthusiasm and try. Picture a child being asked to clean his room- he protests a little but eventually sloughs down the hall, dragging his feet, his hands hanging limply at his sides, a pout on his face and murmured "I dont want to" on his lips. That's Ella right now when I ask her to roll back, bored and uninterested. I think the reason for this is two fold. First, because I haven't given her a job. More than ever I believe a horse needs a job they understand to be happy. A happy horse will do what we ask with try, heart and enthusiasm. Secondly, because I don't ride her like a man.

No offense ladies, but we nag. We say "Don't do that!" ... and when they don't stop we get annoyed and it becomes "I saaaaid DON'T do that!" ... and of course that doesnt work so we go, *yank jerk* "OMG will you stop f-in flippin' flappin' doing that for finangians sake!!" (or something like that). And then finally, after getting more and more frustrated we go *smack* .... and they are like "Ooooh! Why didnt you just say so?".... To make matters worse the next task becomes a fight because we're still pissed off and royally annoyed about what they were doing before. It's a vicious cycle.

Men (okay not all men but hypothetical "men") dont do that. They say... nothing... they just go *slap slap* and merrily on their way. I haven't resolved to slap my horse more. I've just resolved to not bitch and nag. I'm only going to ask once. Then I'm going to make it happen. And then I'm going to calmly and happily move on to the next task like nothing happened. I'm going to ride like a man. Not the type of man who gets mad or mean or overly aggressive. I'm talking about the proverbial man's man, the quiet soft spoken horseman that quietly and unassumingly gets the job done with a firm but kind hand... that dark haired, cool, confident man that knows how to handle horses and woman in kind... the type that will grab a naughty woman hard by the shoulders and crush her to his chest, who kisses her hungrily... his course stubble rough against her velvet lips... he knows what to do... slips a hand behind her neck, knots her hair in to his fist and twists, thrusting her backwards to expose the pale skin of a long and delicate neck. He nips her, gently at first, teeth skimming her collar bone... then harder as he works his way up to the curls behind her ear. His hot breath licks flames beneath her skin. Her flush rises. In to her ear his voice growls his demand, so deep and husky with want...

*cough*

...


I dont know what just happened.

Sorry.

My Bob's Saddle For Sale- SOLD

This is the forth Bob's Custom saddle I've owned. I've been forced to sell every one of my beloved Bob's for reasons that had nothing to do with these lovely saddles. The first, a Bob Avila, I sold as I didn't have a horse and had decided I was "getting out of horses for good!" (that lasted all of like three months). I loved that saddle. The second I bought was a Randy Paul in a light oak. Beautiful. I sold because my old horse had a bulging shoulder and needed a treeless to accommodate. The third, my favorite, the love of my life, the one that got away. I sold that one for funds to go to Europe. I miss it every day. Then there is this current beauty... *deep sigh*

I loved this saddle from the moment I saw it. I had dreams of riding off in to the sunset in that big ol' plush seat. This is the first 17" saddle I've had and man, it's like a freakin' Cadillac... I'd love to say that this saddle and I have spent some quality time together but the sad sad sad fact is that we've only had one single solitary ride. One! Uno! I brought it home from the store, tried it on Ella, realized that it didnt have a chance in hell of fitting her ridiculously wide, round, flat and gigantor frame (Who let me buy a halter bred horse anyways?) and just about cried. I tried it on Marm (who is a 15HH stock horse type) and of course it fit... I got on Marm and took it for a tour around the paddock. OMG... I could just park myself in that saddle and go to sleep Lazy Boy style. I just haaaaad to keep it. I justified it by saying that I would just hang on to it for when Abby came home (she isnt freak-of-nature wide like Ella). So I put it away in it's bag and took it home where it has stayed since... since... March 29th 2011.

Now, I would still LOVE to keep this saddle. But I've decided to trade out this thing you put on a horse for something that you put a horse in *wink*

The only flaw on this saddle is a cut in the leather of the pommel. This cosmetic flaw made this saddle go from a $3000+ item to something I could afford. The saddle was also used in a few demos by the tack store that I bought it from so has a little wear (like where the buckles touch leather) but otherwise it is mint. The skirt is a slightly lighter color than the upper (I love that look) and it has the cut aways in the skirt for a close contact feel.

It is a Full QH Bars, a plush smooth padded seat and comes with matching back cinch. This is a 17" cutting saddle on a cutting tree but I planned on using it for everything from penning to reining, cowhorse and trails.

I would like to get it sold asap so have it priced at $1995 firm (us funds)

I *heart* Bob's Custom Saddles

I am trying to show you the cut away skirt in this picture (not my recycle bin:)

(sorry for the weird angle on this shot... was trying to hold the tape and take photo at the same time:)

(see cut in leather above)

(that white line by the Bob's stamp is not a scratch... maybe a hair or something on the lens)

A Case of the Jiggles

I watched this video and thought, "Wow! Looks like someone has a serious case of the jiggles!" Then I heard this small voice inside say, "... Pot... Kettle...Black... Seriously."

Spring is around the corner. Looks like Ella and I have our work cut out for us! Oh, and yes, her name is Ella. Ella Blue to be exact. The decision was finally taken out of my hands by L.. It was necessary. I was totally out of control. As L. and Ella have a very special relationship I felt she should do the honors (and that way I couldnt take this one back.) L. picked the name Ella Blue. I love it. It works. And best of all, I cant change it. *wipes brow* Thank Heaven!

Ninja

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year! This coming year is a biggie for me... it is kind of split in two because in seven months I turn thirty... So I have seven months before I leave my twenties behind me for good... before I turn an age that makes me feel so... so... not a kid anymore. I have seven months left. I better make it count.

My goals are:

To travel somewhere by myself, depending on time and money I am hoping for Scotland but maybe just a road trip to Montana.

I want to haul my own horse in my own trailer to a place I've always wanted to ride.

I want to show my horse even if it is just at a local show.

I want to be become a Ninja. Dont ask. It's complicated.

I also want to take up yoga more seriously and become an actual yogi. That too is complicated.

And... well, I want to go to a bar and go dancing and get drunk. Which kinda seems the antithisis of the above mentioned goals... but I think I should do that at least once in my twenties. I said I had goals... I didnt say they were lofty... well besides the Ninja thing.

Hard Workin' Girls...

Which is Worse...

Which is worse...

Not realizing that the toilet seat was left up...

Or not realizing that the toilet lid was left down...

Equally shocking? Especially on a particularily cold evening such as this...I think so.

Words to the Wise: My Mother

This post is a message to my Mom. Why speak to her through my blog? Because I was pretty sure she'd kill me if I took an ad out in the local paper. Can you even do that these days? I don't know. What I do know is that my Mom needs to hear what I have to say and I want to make sure she hears it loud and clear. So, Mom, listen up!

Mom, you are a truly exceptional business woman. You are to be admired for demonstrating those qualities that define a consummate professional.

More than anything, and most importantly you are:

HONEST:
1a : free from fraud or deception : legitimate, truthful b : genuine, real c : humble, plain
2a : reputable, respectable b chiefly British : good, worthy
3: creditable, praiseworthy
4a : marked by integrity b : marked by free, forthright, and sincere expression : frank c : innocent, simple

You're integrity is beyond reproach. I have never known you to cheat a client, not for a dollar, not for a minute.

You give everything you have and take less than you are due.

You have never not paid that which was owed.

You genuinely care about your clients. You don't stop at just making sure your clients are happy and satisfied, you try to out due their highest expectations.

You offer your clients more than just professional services, you offer support and compassion. You are quick to lend a sympathetic ear, a helping hand, and the warmth of your heart.

You aim for perfection and when you fall short, as humans do, you make it up by a mile. Mom, you go above and beyond.

You are reliable. Your clients can count on you to show up and deliver on what you promised. You loose sleep at night over a mistake, own up to your errors and do whatever is needed to make it right.

Mom you are not only skilled at your profession but truly talented. You create beauty. You do a great job.

You have a tremendous amount of try. You work hard. You work long hours. You don't quit.

The quality of your work is always evident in the finished product. You do beautiful work

You give credit where credit is due and show respect for your contractors, and coworkers.

What more can you ask for in a professional? Your work, services and products are exemplary. You are honest in your services and in billing. You fix your mistakes. You are a pleasure to work with. You are reliable and trustworthy.

I love you. I am proud of you. I admire you.

The Sound of My Youth

I have been so busy this past week I havent had time to blog or even ride! Rain or shine, tomorrow I am getting on my pony, Mae! Yes! The name has stuck! I still have to think about it every time I say it and occasionally I slip up and call her P____ but I always correct myself...so I guess you could say it has stuck... Umm... well... besides.... Okay, okay, I might have had a little trouble with the last part of the name... Mae Mobely was a mouthful! I didnt really change it, change it... I more just let it come naturally... Oh for Pete's sake! I cant lie... I changed it! I had to give up on Mae Mobely. Mobely just wont roll off my tounge! So I tried Mae-Boley (bow-lee) and I loved that but what came out, every time, was Mae Belle. Mae Belle. Mae Belle. And the damn thing stuck. So be it.

What does all of this have to do with "Songs of my Youth"? Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. But yesterday I spent the day working at a job site where I shared a space with a middle aged carpenter with a serious love of old rock. I would kill to get my hands on his songlist! Oh man! It was just classic after classic. We listened to a Tom Petty, Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, Bob Seger and more Bob Seger. It was awesome!

When Queen's "Under Pressure" came on I commented to my Mom that never in our ten year relationship has the generational gap (18 years) between DB and I been apparent than when he first played me that classic ol' Queen (and David Bowie) song and all I could hear was Ice Ice Baby.

However yesterday, when those first trademark riffs of Under Pressure began, and I found myself humming "Um boom ba bay, Um boom ba bay, Ba ba boom ba be be... Pressure! Pushing down on me, pushing down on you..." ... I knew that some part of my youth had died, I had officially lost touch with that young girl I once was, the one who, on hearing a beat like that, would cock her head to the side, purse her lips, point her finger gun in the sky and let loose some gangsta' swaggar Vanilla Ice style "Yo VIP! Let's kick it!"

Queen and David Bowie

Vanilla Ice- Ice Ice Baby

Meet My Horse, ____?!

(note: My Rome Part 2 post was buried benieth all of the Instagram pictures I posted. So here is a link to that if you were looking for it:)

This is Mae Mobley. Why does she look familiar? Because her name used to be Princess. Did you just roll your eyes? I saw you roll your eyes! I know what you're thinking... and you'd be right, I am crazy. And this name thing is ridiculous! But I can explain.... you see...

I did a whole post about how my favorite movie of all time (Out of Africa) inspired me to accept that her name was Princess, remember? I wrote some psycho babble about how, like Karen, I had learned that there is power in accepting that some are beyond our control. I accepted her name... but thought I could call her Cessa, or Pea or some variant of Princess. But plain ol' Princess stuck hard and fast. I couldnt call her anything but.

For a while it didn't seem to matter as we mainly stuck around home. But then we started hauling out in to that big bad world and I realized that I'd be forced to introduce my mare, like, to other people *gasp* Last week L. and I hauled out to an indoor arena. Inevitably I had to introduce my mare to the other riders. On Saturday, my mare and I did a clinic. Naturally the clinic began with everyone introducing themselves and their horses to the instructor. I was forced to say, "My name is Chelsi and this is my mare Princess." That made for an interesting first impression. The week before we had a new boarder come to our barn and I was forced to let him in on my dirty little secret too. Finally I decided that I have enough social anxiety as it is... I'd had enough. When L., (the lady who boards my pony, who is also a friend) set out for a ride Monday morning I told her that Saturday's clinic had been the last straw... The name Princess had to go.


She just roller her eyes and said, "Sure. Sure."


I didn't blame her. She'd heard this enough times before. Everyone had.

"No, I'm serious." I said, "Saturday was the last time I am going to introduce my horse as Princess. I refuse to do it one more *#&$ing time."


L. thought about it for a minute and then laid down the rules. I need rules. I like rules. Rules make me feel all safe and secure. Not really. Usually rules do nothing but inspire my rebellious tendencies... but this time I knew they were needed.


The rules were:


1. This was my last kick at the can. This time when I picked a name, that was it. Final answer. There would be no going back. L. would continue calling her that name whether I like it or not.

2. I had to decide on this name by the end of the ride. She said that I've known the horse for a year and I've tried on every name under the sun. If I couldn't come up a name in one hour I wasnt going to, ever.


I looked at the long stretch of trail before me. I thought about it for a minute. Then I accepted her terms. I barely spoke a word for the rest of the ride. I had a lot of thinkin' to do.

The first thing I decided was that the name had to start with a Ma sound as I most commonly call her Mare (I call most mares "Mare".) If I picked a "Ma" sounding word I would already be ahead of the game. Macy, Marcy, Marci, Matilda, Madaline, Madison, Maggie, Makie, Mamme... I went through the letters of the alphabet and stuck them all behind Ma. I kept coming back to May. I liked May. May is the middle name of my dear friend Barb. I couldnt go wrong. The only problem was that I dont like one syllable names. I have to have a name that I can coo. A name that sings. So then I stuck letters on the end of May... Maylee, Maycee, Mayla, Mayra, Mayfa, Mayda. May-bee. May-bee... I just immediately loved Maybee. The sound felt right for my horse. But Maybe is no kind of name.

By this time I was running out of trail. I had just a few minutes left. I tried everything I could and nothing was sticking besides May-be. I was starting to panic. I though I could always just go back to Lilly (one of the previous winners). Lilly's a good solid name. May. May-bee...

I had run out of time. We'd hit the end of the trail. L. looked at me. I gave her a sheepish grin and looked away. We started down the road to home. I thought, "Oh! She's going to give me more time! Thank God!" But no. A minute later L. asks,"Well?"

"Okay!" I said.


"Yeeesssss?!?" She says with a big smile.


"I have half of a name." I paused. Twisted my lips. Thought hard. May-be.... May-be. May-boley (bow-lee). Maybolee! "One sec!" I said to L. and pulled out my iphone. I looked up "The Help", clicked open wikipedia and read the plot summery. There it was! Mae Mobley Leeflot! Aibileen's last white baby.

Now, I LOOOOOOVED the book "The Help". I also liked the movie. But the book was really something special. A beautifully written story set in the early 1960s in Jackson Mississipi, The Help is narrated by three different women- Aibileen and Mini, two black woman who spent their adult lives working as maids raising white people's babies and Skeeter, a young white woman who asks Aibileen and Mini to let her write their stories. In that book there is a little girl named Mae Mobley who is cared for by Aibileen. Mae Mobley is not a pretty child and unfortunately her Momma, a pretty society woman, knows it. That mother just couldnt seem to love her child. Aibileen, Mae Mobely's caregiver is the only person in the world who knows what is going to happen if that baby doesnt learn that she has something to offer the world. So every morning Aibileen sits Mae Mobely on her lap and together they say, "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." I love those words.

"Mae Mobley" I said aloud.

"What?!?" Laurie looks at me like I'm smokin' something.

"Mae Mobley" The name didnt quite sound right. I thought of it as May-bow-lee not May Mobley but I just LOVED idea of naming her after that cute little girl. It just FIT. It fit because I had struggled to love this mare. I hate to admit it, but I really struggled to get over the way she looked. I didnt find her pretty. Worse, I thought she was a little ugly. I also didnt appreciate all she had to offer. This Saturday we did a clinic with a lady who is a reining and cowhorse trainer (as well as natural horsemanship.) I am going to write more about this clinic later but for now will just say that I found out that Mae has a HELL OF A LOT more atheltism than I thought and she can even use that big old butt too (I didnt think she knew it was back there!) The mare I thought would neeeever make a reiner, might become a competitive amateur reiner with a really nice stop and snappy rollbacks to boot! I underestimated her. I underestimated her because I didnt value her, right from the start. Mae Mobley is a weird name. But it fits. So that afternoon I told L. that Princess' new name was, "Mae. Mae Mobley." And if someone thinks it is a stupid name then so be it. At least it would be a stupid name that I gave her... a name that I cant hear without thinking, "You is kind. You is Smart. You is important." Mae needs to hear those words. And some days, so do I.