A Meerkat's Bolthole

You know you're a geek of a certain kind when you subconsciously assume that your world has a 10-month year, and only after the fact realize that it's because it's an agrarian society that would naturally be run more along the lines of the old Roman calender with winter fallow-time being conflated into one period, etc, and you KNEW all this in the back of your head even if you couldn't remember the specific details of WHAT you were remembering...

Now I have to sit down and figure the actual run of the calender. Calenders, and maps, and who the hell else knows what's going to be needed before we're done... oh, and a parallel varietal chart, yeah. Forgot about that. The next person who says that fantasy is easier than science fiction because you don't have to do any research? Is so getting thwapped. Hard.

Also, I need to determine the naming conventions of a small island principality, because suddenly that's become a plot-point. Who knew?
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In foodie news, I seem to be on a fritata kick. The simplest one is, well, almost terrifyingly simple, and cooks up in like two minutes, start to finish. Eggs, milk and cheese, whisked together and cooked in a mini-skillet, quick-finished and served open-faced. Perfect for when that second mug of coffee kicks in and my blood sugar plummets and brain suddenly no-workie. The fact that it's pretty on the plate is just a plus, and one that disappears pretty fast, because mmmm fork it down....

This weekend I'll be playing in someone else's kitchen, for more people, so will see how creative I can get.
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Back to the stables today, after some time off due to schedule conflicts and Extreme Weather. I'm not sure how well I'm going to be able to clear my head properly, but we'll give it a try.... I'm in the stage of writing where anything else seems an imposition, so the gym-work's been suffering, and even now I'm thinking "but, that's 90 minutes out of the work-day...." Need to keep reminding myself that yes, I do enjoy exercise. More, I need it. The writing suffers when all you do is write.

Note the change of icon on this post. Because, ow. Serious workout today, and as much aching as I feel now, it will only be worse later. Which is good, but still..ow.

Today I rode Louie for the first time. The first thing I discovered about Louie is that he is an ADD pony. "ohh, bird, person, carrot, shiny!" This was confirmed by C's instructions to keep him especially engaged around the windows because "he likes to look out them, and sometimes he gets distracted."

He also has a tendency to stumble that I needed to be aware of and respond to (don't freak, loosen the reins, let him get his balance, tighten the reins back up, don't shift your balance during any of this, in the length of two or three strides). I also had to learn about the tendency to wander off-rail, and that his gait was significantly different (unlike the other school horses, he has actual elevation in his trot, which is lovely once you get used to it, but changes the way your body moves, too).

So. I got most of that in about five minutes of just walking in the ring and getting introduced. And then there was a full hour of hard labor that I can't even describe except to say that there wasn't a single second I wasn't trying to pack half a dozen things into one simple movement -- if you didn't do something exactly right, Louie Would. Not. Do. It.

However, I'm pleased to say that by the 30 minute mark he and I were having our own little party in the ring, trotting and cantering around the ittle pretty ponies and the instructors, and mostly moving with one accord [with the occasional stubborn-offs when he thought I was being sloppy]. His torso is just the right size for my legs, his stride is just the right length for me to feel both safe and energized, and the challenge of getting him to be perfect really kept me pushing my game. I thought I learned a lot. Not even close to perfect [there were a times I felt like a rank idiot] but not bad.

It wasn't until after the lesson when I, tired and sore, was leading him out of the ring, that C. told me that Louie was her 'test' horse, the one she uses to see how well her students are really doing. He is, in C's words, Thoroughbred-cross high maintenance with an extremely responsive mouth, and in order to get anything out of him, you had to have a really light touch on the reins and a firm leg. More, there are some riders he likes, and some he doesn't, and it's all a judgment call on his part. "He likes you," she said. "You did really well, and got the most out of him."

I will take my gold star and wear it proudly. But for now, I need some Tylenol and a drink. Because... ow.


Sadly, it looks like I'll never get a chance to ride the Mountain of Peewee (hah, no chance of that, I LIKE being within a mile of the ground!). They got him for their larger riders, but most of them were beginners, and Peewee was too much for them to handle, so he goes off to another home next week. Such a handsome big boy, I hope he lands somewhere good.

Saving Horses, one Thoroughbred at a time

The line that killed me: "On occasion, Condurso-Lane said, a pair of horses standing in the field together will appear to nudge one another, then dart off together in a straight line, as if reliving their past."

*sniffle*
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In other news, I fled the computer to have a Day Out, which included the Superheroes costume exhibit at the Met (interesting but not, IMO, amazingly well-done unless, like me, you adore certain designers and can have fun mocking academic copy-writers), kamikazi shoe-shopping, post-theater dissection of the current staging of Macbeth over a carafe of wine and damn good Italian food, and one of the top ten phrases you never want to hear a tourist in Times Square say: "is that a real gun, Maureen?"

(it wasn't)

[also? I should not be allowed anywhere near Times Square/the Theater District on Wedesday afternoons or Saturdays. The urge to kill is nigh overwhelming. Farking tourists, learn how to walk!]

EtA: best street theater sight: a guy waving a variety of bumper stickers on a theme of "Cheney/Satan in 2008: The worst possible President"

Tomorrow, back to work. For now -- falling over and making like a sleeping thing.

Work: Woke up this morning with the thought that "Mad Cats and Englishmen" really wants to expand into a novel. Possibly YA. Either I need to beat that idea into submission, or someone better perfect that "out-of-the-vat work-capable clone" thing PDQ.

Am head-down in HARD MAGIC, meanwhile, and can almost see the light at the end of the (very)rough draft. Almost. Hopefully, it's not another rock-dragon. Once the draft is done, then I can go back and do my graphite edit, finding all the plot-faults and dropped threads that are endemic (for me) to the first mad rush of storytelling. I have always envied people who can think a story out all the way through and then just write it -- me, even working from an outline it still comes in layers, one on top of the other, and then folded together with a (hopefully) subtle hand.

So long as I don't get sick again (avert!) I should make deadline without panic. Having said that, however...

Play: Riding, week Nine: Back on CD. I love my sweet Sancho, but the truth is I enjoy riding CD a lot more. He has more of a jounce to his movement, true, but he's also not quite so barrel-girthed, making it easier for me to keep my leg steady. He's also more of a challenge -- if Sancho teaches me how I should be doing something, CD teaches me how to tell my horse to do something with me.

Anyway, I was allowed back into my stirrups, and seem to have internalized last week's lesson, because when I used a little too much leg and CD went from "nice canter" to "hyperdrive!canter" rather than losing my balance I leaned back and went along for the wheee. And it was very much whee -- I think C. expected me to be freaked out but I had a blast*. And it was my decision to pull back to a trot, not his; that's important.

Still having some trouble with my cornering, and there's stuff C. hasn't even touched on that I know I need to dig into...have to trust C. that she'll know when I should start focusing on it.

No lesson next week. Already I'm in withdrawal. What I'm going to do over the summer, when C. and I seem to be alternating Time Away, I don't know....

Research: I'm not sure if this should fall under the category of work or play, so I'm breaking it out on its own. I am compiling a stack (okay, a leaning tower) of materal, but not letting myself delve into it until the rough draft of HM is done. Talk about a carrot! Politics and geography and cartography and chemical analysis and that's even before I get to the wine-making stuff! *has her geek on*




*there is a woman who takes her lesson the same time I do, and she's a pretty good beginning rider except that I get the feeling she's got this inner OMG HORSE! fear going on. So when CD decided to make like the racehorse he ain't, my main concern was not for me, but that she'd get spooked. Thankfully, she seemd a little unnerved ("is my horse gonna do that?") but okay.

Some of you may have noticed that I missed last week's report. Some of you may have been thankful. Tough, we're back.

Week 6:

Not much to report this week, actually, mainly because I went with my head full of negotiations and counteroffers and whatnot, meaning that I may have been ON the horse, but I wasn't WITH the horse. Very frustrating -- nothing felt right, nothing was working, and I finally ended up riding sans stirrups so my legs at least would remember how to curl and grip. Head and body. You can't bring one and not the other and expect to make it work. Knowing why I was distracted made me feel not any the less annoyed with myself.

Week 7:

( good news, better news, and ow! )

For those still following the saga...
Switched horses yesterday -- was assigned Snaps, who was not named for his habit of biting but tried to do so anyway. He bit, I hit, we went on with the lesson in perfect accord (he didn't even bruise me, so it wasn't a serious bite, just more of a test to see what he could get away with. Answer: nothing).

Snaps is an 8-year veteran of being a school horse and, as C said, "will do only what you ask -- but you have to ask him right." So, having been deemed Acceptable in the basics, I am now being tested to see what I actually know.

I have work to do on my corners.
a lot of work.

Also, must remember to go gentle when he gets stubborn. Confuses him into doing what I want. :-D

On the plus side, my transitions are good, the legs are mostly staying where I want them, my hands remain still and steady, and even with his high trot and omgwhee! canter, I was secure in the saddle. And I woke up without any muscle pain at all. Although the shots of vodka last night may have had something to do with that, too...

Today I did some work stuff, some financial stuff, and some family stuff, and tried to juggle plans for the forthcoming weekend, so I can fit everything in. May not happen. Priorities must be determined . :-(

The pantry is done, despite some mishaps this morning. It is verra nice. I now get to indulge my obsessive kitchen geek and set everything up Just So. Plus, despite the commotion of drilling, hammering, and unhappy cats, I managed to write 1200 new words on Bonnie #1 (working title still pending). Also signed off on the contracts for "Dreamcatcher."

And then I went off to the stable.

The Return to Riding Report Card, week 2

Again on Sancho, who is a very stubborn but otherwise well-mannered fellow. He also moves like a ton of graceful bricks, so when you sit wrong, you know it. Very good for beginners and returners like me.

He also likes the way my hair tastes. Him and Boomer both. *sigh*

Anyway, C says that I'm remembering to open up my shoulders, but the forward-leg thing is still a problem. Interestingly enough, it's only in the posting trot that it's a serious problem. Walk and canter I remember how to sit back and push down (I don't always do it, but I do remember how). My sitting trot has always been good. Posting? Not so much. Argh.

But I'm getting there. I do know all this, it's just a question of remembing it all the time. And I'm not cramming for an exam, so I can take my time getting there and enjoy the process. (IOW, dancinghorse, don't go breeding me a pony just yet. *grin*)

And, for those wondering, you know you're doing it right when a muscle in your inner leg/hip that is only used in these circumstances opens up and screams BITCH! I HATE YOU! at you. Excuse me, a bath and aspirin call my name...

And then there will be more writing.

( A brief history: )

Fast forward to 2008, when that little girl, now with her toe poking at middle age (in my family, 'middle age' runs from 40 to 70), found herself living ten minutes away from a stable. And she said, Self? Now or never.

Alas, there are no photos, because I forgot to bring the camera. But rest assured, it did indeed happen.

Me, I felt like a lump of straw, jouncing around. However my instructor assured me that my seat and hands were nicely quiet and my overall form not bad for a 20 year hiatus (although my leg will insist on moving forward and turning out, despite my knowing that's a badness. Grr. Must work on that). It is, I am told, apparent that once upon a time I was well-trained and reasonably competent, and the expectation is that it will all come back to me quite quickly.

We'll see. In the meanwhile, I stink of horse, I ache in muscles I'd almost forgotten I had, and I feel fabulous. :-)

And I get to do it again next week. Life is good.


(dancinghorse, the stable was founded by Rusty and Ashley Holzer, if the names are familiar to you...)