The new digs

How do people move in and out of houses?!

We have more than enough boxes.

We do not have enough boxes.

People should move more often, just so they’re forced to throw away things that they don’t need or use.

No one should ever move because this is unnecessarily stressful.

The amount of horse supplies and tack that I keep in my apartment is absurd.

The number of jackets and coats that I own for living in Texas is absurd.

How many sets of sheets and towels is a healthy amount to own?

Let’s not mention how many pairs of boots I have.

We are seriously going to empty the entire fridge so that we can move everything five miles north...

It’s so cool that we have an upstairs at the new place!

Stairs are the worst.  Let’s never live anywhere with multiple stories again.

The sass is strong with this one

To recap on with our summertime saga of Miss Fake Lame Mae, the vet had come out and drained a small infection in her hoof.  The farrier came out a few days later and replaced the shoe on said foot.  Both professionals proclaimed her to be sound all over.  So what happened when I rode her the next day?  Lame.  Lame lame lame for the entire hour long ride.  I wasn’t going to let her get out of the hack and reward her behavior.  And then of course, the next day with my trainer, she was perfect.  Trainer even sent video of Mae under saddle.  Zero lameness, zero issues.


To which I responded by immediately scheduling a lesson.  Work schedule be damned.  My patience had run out, and we were going to nip this in the bud.

So when I saddled her up and walked to the large outdoor arena with my trainer, I wasn’t surprised when Mae didn’t take a wrong step.  There wasn't even the slightest hitch in her step.

We had a lovely flat lesson, and my trainer showed me a few tricks that she had been working on.  I could engage the outside rein, inside leg (softly) to make her body completely rounded along my inside leg.  I could also engage the outside rein (quite hard) to make her drop her head and lift her back, then immediately softening my hands, she would work, by herself, with her head held in a lovely position.  We also worked on my body positioning and balance during the canter.  At this point, we’re continuing to two-point the canter, but Mae’s body is strong enough to balance both of us during a steady canter.  I have a long torso and tend to tip forward, and I have to work on not leaning on her neck.

And then the pièce de résistance of the ride.  Asking Mae to back up.

My Ryon would back up willingly with just a few taps on the shoulder with my leg.  Mae freezes in place.  All the veins in her neck and chest bulge, and she plants her front feet and locks her joints.  With me on her back, she wouldn’t take a single step back until my trainer started poking her in the chest with an umbrella.  The trainer had not gotten this type of resistance from her before, so she hopped on board with her flip flops and work out shorts.  Again, Mae froze and then seeking to dodge contact, spun and bunny hopped.  Trainer again asked her to back up, and when she finally figured out who was riding her, she acquiesced and did as she was asked.  My turn again.  I hopped on, sat back in my seat, and fluttered my outside rein.  No movement.  I tried again.  Mae dodged contact, reared up and spun on her two back legs, one direction then the other direction, which was the highest any horse has ever reared with me on board.  There was most certainly a moment where I was nervous she was going to fall backward and land on top of me.  I stayed on (practice your no stirrup flatwork!) and asked her again - fluttered outside rein and sat back.  This time she listened and backed up with no resistance.  We backed up for a dozen steps to reinforce the lesson and then called it a day.

Dramatic reenactment

We intended on doing jumps but after the exercise backing up, plus the 100 degrees temp, we ended on a good note and with both of us soaked in sweat.  Takeaways from the lesson?  Number one: a professional is there to help you.  They may not be right all the time, however they typically have more depth and breadth of experience than you do.  Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it - that’s what you pay them for.  Number two: Mae was treating me like mom and not as a serious rider.  In the arena, she would listen to me, when she wanted to and on her terms only.  After the battle yesterday and after she failed to ditch me, she settled down and really started to listen and respect me as a rider.  My trainer said Mae hasn’t pulled shenanigans like that with her before, ever.  “She is one sassy b*tch,” was the comment after the ride.  We’re going to take lessons more consistently to reinforce my status as rider AND mom.  Number three: Mae is five and an immature five.  She’s still very much a baby, still learning, and still throwing temper tantrums.  Patience and consistency is key.  If that doesn’t work, try beating her with a putting iron (note: it doesn’t work, you don’t get enough leverage).

Author’s aside: I didn’t get any pictures from this ride, even though I would have loved to have captured her rearing up while I was on board.  She’s still developing and growing really nicely.  We measured her a few weeks ago and she is 16.3 hands at her shoulder and 17.0 hands at her butt (for context from the other pictured I’ve posted with her, I’m 5’7).  And here I thought I was getting a small horse.

Almost everything is in boxes and I have less than a week left until I skedaddle from my old place and into the new one.  Plus I’ve been sick (which is the weirdest during the summer), so let’s look at some happy things, shall we?

Southern Bastards graphic novel series - Football, murder, and a Southern town of pissed off rednecks.  Both the art and the writing is gritty, just like I like my graphic novels.


The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories by Ken Liu - I’ve read a few books by Ken Liu but this short story collection is my favourite work of his by far.  It’s a mix between science fiction and Chinese folktales.  I’m twenty pages from finished, and I’m already dreading the end.


Tailored Sportsman breeches - This is my second pair, and I got them in the Green Horn colour.  I love how these fit and received loads of compliments the first day I wore them.  I’ve even worn these to work on Casual Friday; they’re fancier than some of the jeans I own.

Homecoming King by Hasan Minaj on Netflix - I’ve watched this stand up special by Hasan Minaj three times, once by myself, once with B, and once with my parents and sister.  It makes me laugh and cry every single time, which is what good comedy should be about.

When the Toast came back for one day - Gosh I’ve missed these ladies.  Catch up on their day of goodness here.

Pasta from La Dolda in Austin - You know you’ve got good pasta when even the pasta water is delicious.  The worst part about this pasta is that they make it and sell it in Austin only.  If you’re lucky enough to live in Austin, go to Bee Caves and pick up a few bags!


The Mazzy Show - I love this little Asian girl and her cooking show.  I love the different food she makes, how she snacks constantly while she’s cooking, and how enthusiastic and patient her parents are.  And I mainly love her because she reminds me 100% of my sister when she was two years old.

What are some of the things you’ve loved lately?

Society6

These are things that give me anxiety:

Arguing / falling / elephant-herding / screaming noises from my neighbor upstairs

Voicemails from unknown numbers

Planning vacations of any duration

Early morning flights

School supplies for sale in July

Traffic

Children who are about to cross the street without holding tightly to a grown-up’s hands

Not packing enough books for a trip

Packing too many books for a trip

Our vet came out today to check on Mae and see why she possibly could be limping.  She flexed sound everywhere (which is good news), but he did find a crack under the sole of her front left foot with a small infection.  He dug it out, drained it, and put her on antibiotics.  We'll have to start conditioning her hooves every day now and keeping her from walking on the rocks that line our arenas (for some odd reason).  My trainer had ridden her in a training ride this morning before the vet showed up and she was fine throughout the entire thing.  When she asked the vet if Mae's hoof could have caused her lameness, he told us that she could have been a bit sore on it but most likely "exaggerated it to get out of work."

There you have it.  Official medical diagnosis: FAKER.

I'm glad he caught her infection before it became a big problem.  And I'm also glad that it wasn't an actual fluke physical ailment that only showed up when I was around.  Now we need to work on her attitude.  Yep, only that.

July began rather decently and quickly melted away into a bubbling mess of a month.  I’ve been absolute garbage at getting lessons in and haven’t been able to have one since June, as work and other priorities have taken the focus this summer.  I try not to beat myself up over it, especially when I see others making such progress.  Shifting priorities is one of those adult things that are a fact of life, and Mae is still in full training with my trainer.  As such, these are a few of the things I’ve noticed when I hack her:

• Accepts contact in the bit more frequently
• Both my trainer and I enjoy riding her in the heat.  She’s less frisky and more tired, so there’s less energy for antics (note: one HUGE antic notwithstanding)
• Rounds her body around my inside leg
• Willing works into the corners when asked
• Over ground poles (haven’t jumped outside lessons), she needs some encouragement.  She looks to her rider and ground handler for direction and confidence.  
• More sensitive to body position / movement than Ryon.  I’ve noticed that when I trot her down a long vertical, I can subtly look in the direction that I want to turn in and she’ll respond accordingly.

Mae is still wary around strangers, particularly non-horse people.  She picks up on others’ anxiety / excitement, tossing her head when they try to pet her (and significantly calms down when they feed her treats).  She’s a bright girl, and I was able to teach her how to smile in one 15 minute session.  It was more difficult than with Ryon because for him, it was rewarding a behavior that he already performed.  She also finally stopped getting attacked by the other horses in the turnout.  She’s learned to leave them alone; they don’t want to play with her or chase her around (or be chased around).


Physically, she’s round and muscled out.  Finally!  The horse has been a bag of bones for half a year, and now she’s finally starting to fill out.  She’s still on canola oil and Cool Calories.  A fat OTTB in the summer time is exactly what we wanted.  It’s hot enough already, and August won’t be any cooler.  On Fridays, we have spa afternoons where she’ll get a full shampoo and we’ll just chill out.  It’s 100 degrees out in the afternoon and in the mornings, it’s already close to 90.  They have shade in their turnouts but she is soaked in sweat when she comes in at 2 pm.

The ONE GIGANTIC FRUSTRATING NEGATIVE that throws a wrench into our training is that Mae continues to be the hugest faker.  I’ve never seen anything like it before.  She’s acted 100% lame with me (only me) four times now, particularly when I pull her out of her turnout or stall to do some work.  Girl, I get it.  It is freaking HOT, and the last thing anyone wants to do is sweat some more.  Usually I can chase the fakeness out of her, but she can now keep it up through the walk and trot for an entire training session.  The other day, I ran out of patience and put her on a lunge line until she was dripping sweat and foaming.  People had to stop and comment / complain because I looked like I was chasing around my horse who clearly had a broken leg.  I’d be incredibly worried about it, and the first few times I was, except that she is always sound the previous day when my trainer rides her, and sound in the morning in the turnout.  It’s only in the evenings when I get ready to ride her that she somehow comes up limping.  It’s not an issue with her tack, as she’s acted lame under both conditions (see below video). My working assumption now is that she’s not lame unless her leg is missing.  I hate that this is what it’s come to, so we’re going to have the vet come out tomorrow and double check her just in case.  She limps on her leg that had the abscess this spring, and I wonder if that’s how she learned to limp to get out of a ride.  If any of you have any advice or have ever experienced anything like this, please let me know!


It’s all an unfortunate development because I feel like I’ve just recently gained genuine trust and confidence with her.  Even though she continues to be nervous around strange things, she rarely spooks under saddle anymore.  Her anxiety level has come down a few notches since this spring.

For our August Goals, we’re going to keep it simple because it’s going to be broiling hot:

On the ground, have her move away from slight pressure on her shoulder and her hind.

Stop with the fakery.


That’s it and that is all.  I’ll keep y’all posted on the fake lameness, if I don’t bash my head in with frustration first.

Writing about art

Britney Spears still hangs on the bedroom wall of my boyfriend’s childhood bedroom.  Even after the boys finally and permanently moved out of the house, it took their mom until her retirement to strip down football posters, empty the shelves of t-ball trophies, and dress the faded walls with a coat of new paint.  Legos and board games went into the closet for fingers-crossed future grandchildren, and the only concession that remained was that Britney stayed on the wall.

Lest we throw stones whilst living in glass houses, my own parents’ home hasn’t had a real update in over twenty years.  Mini renovations and purges have speckled the last few decades - when I moved back to Dallas and systematically emptied each room, when they updated the counter tops in the kitchen days before Thanksgiving.  With my mom’s heart surgery a few years ago, even the annual airing of out-of-season clothes ground to a halt.

Particularly in our old bedrooms, there is a stillness in the air, like someone took a breath and held it.  There isn’t a hamster, faintly scrabbling away in the corner, anymore and the air smells neutral and dead, free of the unguents and sprays that we used as teenage girls.  The doors are now flung wide open, rarely closed, and creak when they swing.  A warren of dust bunnies live under my sister’s old twin bed, as do faded college syllabuses, shoe boxes of old ticket stubs, and spare change carefully squirreled away.  Foxtrot comic books and stuffed toys line her bookshelves, and the room sits vacant except for her visits home twice a year.

Instead of using the extra bedrooms for storage, stuff - because there’s no better word for it - encroaches on my parents’ bedroom.  Filing cabinets, my old desk, dusty yoga mats, and at one time three vacuums.  I’m afraid that my parents will eventually disappear between the piles of linens - towels, bed sheets, extra pillows, and comforters.  If you’re not careful grabbing a hand towel out of the linen closet, you could be buried under an avalanche of them.

Ashamedly, the idea of re-purposing and reorganizing the house for my parents was not mine but B’s.  There’s no reason they should live in a museum, half of the things belonging to those of us who no longer live there.  We are like the children of Christmas past, and you must hold on to our Lisa Frank sticker collections and moldy retainers.

So we collectively put our heads together.  We diagrammed, discussed, and debated.  A home office for dad, not just a bedroom with a folding table in the corner.  Another real guest bedroom with an adult-sized bed for adult-sized visitors.  New flooring of some sort, the maroon carpet is over 30 years old and fraying at the edges.  They’ll keep the upright piano, god knows why, as they don’t play.  It’s a glorified shelf for Alexa and greeting cards.

We are starting small, emptying out boxes of tangled electronic cables and floppy disks that are useless, even as coasters.  I sit for an hour and shred five years worth of old credit card and bank statements.  The paper shredder quits on me after 15 minutes so I sit on the floor and tear with my fingers.  Dad and I sort, shred, and listen to the Selected Shorts podcast.  Two hours later, there are three black garbage bags full of things to be tossed.  We’re pecking away at the shrine to the two children who used to live in this house to make it work for the two parents left in it.