The Things I Carry
I have a coat bag – in my farm colors, brown and blue – that I’ve been schlepping around with me for more than a decade. It had to be a custom order, because I’m so tall that standard size bags scrunch my tails up at the bottom. And over the years, I’ve collected a few things that I carry with me to shows. I’m not a superstitious person, but they’re little mementos that help me remember what’s important, and think of a few old friends.
– tail hair bracelets from a few special horses. Whether they’ve moved on from me or just moved on, I have a collection of bracelets from Pony Locks that come with me. Bellinger, Clairvoya, Victorious, Stratocaster, Ellegria and Danny Ocean are all represented, and I like to think that they come with me (and, for a few of them, heckle me) down the centerline.
– a buckeye. One of my dearest former students gave me a buckeye nut from a tree in her family’s back yard. It’s supposed to bring luck; I like it because it reminds me of a fun kid, and the times we shared.
– a stock tie pin made by another former student. Sometimes I wear it, and sometimes it just travels with me, but it’s incredibly beautiful, an oversized pin with a collection of blue beads, and it also reminds me of how long I’ve been doing this, because the maker was one of my first students.
– a rubber duck. A friend of mine gave me the duck at my last NAYRC (2005!); she called it my lucky duck, which it may be, but it also makes me think of days gone by, and how far I’ve come.
– a little elephant figurine. The elephant itself is meaningless, but it was inside a bag of things that were given to me after my amazing student and friend Beverley Thomas’ passing last year, and carrying it is like carrying a little talisman from her.
There’s also an assortment of safety pins, mascara, sunscreen and a sewing kit in case of disasters, plus at least three emergency pairs of semi-retired Roeckl white gloves. But they’re not as poetic as the keepsakes!
Fear is something I see every day. Not so much in myself (more on that in a sec), but as a teacher of amateur people, many of whom either aren’t young or started riding as adults or both. It’s been a companion of mine throughout my teaching career, and it was one I didn’t really understand in the beginning.
One of the many hats I wear is matchmaker, helping my clients find horses. That means a lot of reading sale ads, and over my years, I’ve developed a little dictionary, to translate into normal people speak. Here are a few of the entries. (And if you’re lacking a sense of humor, I’d stop reading, right now.)
Elvis is really cool, guys. He’s keen but relatively unemotional. He’s athletic, but he’s also efficient. His default answer is yes. There’s a heck of a lot to like.
For those who’ve never been, south Florida is… gross. It’s warm and soggy all the time, there’s a lot of microbes in the soil, and land is a gajillion dollars so turnout is small and sandy. It’s a recipe for some challenges with my horses’ skin, and leg skin in general, being close to the ground, and often wearing boots while sweating. But ten winters down here has given me some tools. Here are my favorites right now.
A few neat training metaphors I’ve either made up myself or shamelessly stolen from others. If I could draw, I’d draw these, but I can’t, so instead you get my words. Enjoy.
There’s a kid I see pop up on my social media from time to time. She starts young horses and then sells them, which is why I see her posts. The horses are always well groomed and ridden and presented tactfully. The videos are well put together. The text on her ads is articulate and correct. And that’s all well and good, but the part that stands out is that this kid can RIDE. She’s clearly bold. She sits. She puts her leg on. She’s the kind of rider I want a million of for my own barn, and she’s young and driven and, according to her website, hungry for excellence at the international level one day.
I know it’s impolite to whine about the weather in South Florida right now, while the rest of the country is Ice Station Zero, but it’s really been quite hot in Wellington. Here’s a few products I can’t live without at the moment, when the high temperatures are keeping me and my horses sweaty and gross most of the day.
You’ve got the space in your barn, you’ve saved up a reasonable budget, and your current string is all old enough and civilized enough that it’s time to begin again. The search is on for a young horse.