Riding in the rain

For the first time in the 10 years I've been here Seattle is in the news. So funny how they say the word. They say it wrong in three different ways.  But I just found out I've been saying Nevada wrong my whole life. I thought the first A in Nevada rhymed with the A in Seattle.

There are piles of snow everywhere, and the mud we have on our land has not completely unfrozen yet, but there is glorious green showing again, and wet streets, the salt washing away. It's incredible.

I sat in the barn drinking tea, watching Mag eat, and enjoying the sound of the rain drumming on the roof. I was in heaven. Willy thinks I'm crazy. The outdoor was starting to defrost......I've been watching it closely because I'm ready to move outside with Mag.

Today was the day. First of all, everyone was there, but hmmm....where were they? Either they were out on the trails enjoying no more ice, or in the arena receiving a clinic from Gabi on ground work. I watched over the door and wondered why so many experienced horse women were receiving ground work 101, the most basic step - how to make a horse circle you on a NH lead. How odd. Nina came out for a second and I said, "What on earth are you doing?" She said, "I need the certificate!" I said, "WHY do you need a certificate for that?" She said, "If I ever want to teach children." Ahhhhh. I said, "This is way too beginner level for you." She rolled her eyes. She's been pretty nice to me lately, talking about how much she's against horse sports for all the cruelties. She was surprised to learn I'm not from England, which surprised me, most people can tell from my lovely accent I'm not from England *lol*. "Ah, I know why, cuz I watch Downton Abby you thought I'm from there!"

Today in the barn two ladies were saddling their young paint horses to go trail riding and I was tempted to ask if I could come along with Mag but their horses are younger than Mag, and one lady is a raw beginner. I needed to get my wheelbarrow by one of the paints and without thinking gave the horse the signal I'd give Mag to move your butt over, which is an "upward" nod of my head and "over!" and of course her baby horse just stood there, "hi there!" I said, "Um" and the lady came over. She said, "Just ram into his back legs with the wheelbarrow." I said, "I will NOT!"  She said, "He has to learn this!" I said, "Go ahead, I don't want to get kicked."

Sure enough, he kicked out when she very gently touched him with it. I said, "See?" Finally she got him over and she said, "What will you do if I'm not around next time?" I said, "I'll FIND YOU" *lol* and she gave me an affectionate rub on my back. Sweet lady, most people don't touch me. However she is an aberration - most people at this barn do not expect you to teach their horses things, they  understand you don't know their horses. Also, that was a risky thing to do, as she found out. I can ram my donkey with a wheelbarrow no problem, but not a strange 5 year old. I like this lady though, she's always smoking an e-cigarette, surrounded by a cloud of odor-less smoke, and she looks like an American and has a "couldn't give a rip" attitude.

They went on their trail ride as it started to rain, and I took Mag to the outdoor to warm up on the lunge and he was especially lazy. About 1/3 of the arena still has ice, so we avoided those spots. It was great to be on sand again, even though my shoes have holes and my feet got soaked. I saw the sequim coat lady cleaning the mare's paddock next to us, and I kept hearing Gabi's "outdoor voice" in the arena, and Willy kept going by with wheelbarrows, and I said to myself, "This is the perfect time to ride alone for the first time, and in the outdoor for the first time."

It was great. In fact, people came and went, with dogs and horses, and Mag had no "lookie" moments, cuz he could see so much; nothing surprised him. But he was being irritatingly slow again and I had no crop. I can't believe how lazy he can be, but I know he'll be fine on the trails.

Trails. I think I'm ready, after today. Just gotta find the right partner to make it it a calm experience. Gabi would yell at me, Jana would gallop away from me, and the paint horse ladies' horses are younger than Mag. I'm gonna ask Claudia and Argo, since Argo has proven himself to be the steady old uncle so far to Mag.

And then I'll let Mag go first, and then we'll be ready to go alone.

Visualizing really helps, I think.

I told Mag how wonderful he was as I left him in his paddock, and he kicked out at his blanket strap. WTH! Don't do that! I cannot understand why he still has issues with blankets (and towels), when he's so good about water and hoses and clippers. And I can lash the lunge whip around his legs as he trots, and he's fine, but if a lead rope gets down there, watch out. If I swing ropes around his legs, he gets that it's a lesson. If it happens and I'm not there, it's another story.

But it made me realize that he hasn't done anything bad in a very long time. Even his most special leg (left hind) he gives me easily. He has even learned to stand still while blanketing and unblanketing while loose, despite his distrust of fabrics. Today I had the "wrong" gloves on but he just has to get used to loud things!

I'm loving being at this barn, using the facilities to the utmost. I'm there 6 days per week for at least 3 hours. No one could say I was not getting our money's worth!


This photo is from before I met Mag. When S went to his barn to check out horses for me, and I told her to specifically take a look at Mag. In fact at this time I only referred to him as "the fatty" and indeed that is the file name for this photo. "fatty" - Sadly I wish I could get this amount of weight on him. I don't think he's actually fat in this photo, but he's way heavier than he is now.



And this is my heart horse. This was the fateful day he fell through the bridge. I look at this photo and I remember complete trust and love. I'm dreaming of Baasha lately, but it gets mixed up with Mag somehow. I'll say, "Baasha..." and look up and it will be Mag. Not that dreams mean anything (little joke).