A Perfectly Wonderful Weekend

December 1-2, last weekend before everyone says "it is too close to the holidays, I am just too busy to commit to anything,"  as if the holidays are the black hole sucking all energy out of the universe.  This was the weekend of the Susie Hutchinson jumping clinic at the beautiful facility of Hawkwood Hill Farm, Petaluma, our new home town.

Princess and Hanalei, Hugh and myself, signed up for Susie's clinic weeks ago, before the rambunctious tropical storm dumped 7 inches of rain on already soaked hillsides.  We are not competing with tropical super storm Sandy for attention, but it gave an extra challenge to the weekend.  We were squished into am indoor arena not much bigger than a dressage arena, green horses, big jumps, and deep mud make interesting bedfellows.

Saturday was flat day and low exercises.  One of the best was galloping at precisely 12 miles an hour for one minute, 3 times around the arena, 360 yards.  Princess and myself were 4 seconds over the first time going left and 2 seconds under the second going right.  The eventers clocked in at 60 seconds each time.  Something to practice.

Cloverleaf jumping patterns and 12 foot U turns were a challenge.

Then came Sunday.  I saw pretty much the same lesson 3 times before my turn came up.  Trot, canter, counter canter, circles, gallop, come back to a tight circle, all great flat work.  She wants to see all gears available, slow, fast and in between.  Then the jumping exercises began.  2 jumps were 60 feet apart, a true 12 foot stride 4 stride.  At exactly 30 feet in the middle, a third jump was offset from the direct line but parallel to the others. Numbering 1-2-3, circle left and jump 2-3 in a short 30 foot two stride, roll back right and jump 2-1 as another 30 foot two stride.  Next, jump the line, going deep in the corner, jumping 1-2 in two strides, approaching 1 on an angle left to right, turning in the air and finishing over 3 in two strides.  Right after that, gallop 1-3 in 4 strides. No adding.  After all that collection work, the horses were asking, really, can we gallop now?  Many adds, all not tolerated but cheerfully encouraged to correct and get right by Susie.  Princess did not add.

Then the course, 4 stride line, coming in big and bold, roll back to the oxer on the diagonal, then oxer on the far line, do it again until right.  That is the lesson we had to learn, getting it right, Susie-right.  I got a little jazzed and picked up some pace,  Had to chill and keep steady.  We got it done.  3'6" in the indoor with muddy shoals shortening the space even more, I was SO proud of my pony!

(fyi: Image from Pebble Beach show, waiting for one from clinic)

How do they do that?

Last horse show, Let's Show Halloween  Rancho Murieta. over Halloween weekend, of course.  Seven horses, 2 fabulous grooms and one hard working trainer.  Girls: Princess, Junebug, Fiona. and Fan Fair.  Boys: Capote, Otto and Samson.  Mixed rings, hunters, jumpers and equitation.  Weather: rain and cold to quite warm.  The usual expansive California experience compressed into a week.

But my question remains, how do they do it?  Remember Woody Allen's movie, Zelig, where he physically becomes like the people he is with?  He has no independent identity.  When he is with deeply religious Jews, a funny hat and beard magically develop.  He is considered the human chameleon.  Neurotic?  Psychotic?  Extreme example of a normal human tenancy to want to fit in?  All considerations are up for grabs.

Back to Let's Show Halloween.  Here I am, the diligent student watching very accomplished pros do there work.  Here we have Jill Humphrey looking positively relaxed and nonchalant in a meter thirty class.  There we have Hope Glyn loping to a gap in the hunter ring.  I ask again, how do they do it?  So I put it to the test.  Round after round in the 3'3" hunter ring, I slowed down and aimed for the nice bascules.  Finally, Princess said, "Enough of this," and chipped and added a stride.  Bobble, popup, ugly.

Fortunately, we had another round immediately following that debacle.  I reversed into super safe amateur mode, having 105% of the energy needed for any contingency, a little over the pace and over the power, but any distance was doable.  8 fences, no adds, no bobbles, nice recovery.  Fun sport, but darn hard to get all moving parts in sync.   

Something's Happening Here

I am wondering if the last week's lesson acomplishments are just too trivial to report.  But then I reflect on the week and am briming with enthusiasm and want to record for posterity.  Last Saturday. Lindsey and I were taking a lesson together.  No one else present, no one else to corroborate the story.  So you just have to beleive me.  Nice flat work, bending, impulsion, great foundation.  Then a few low fences.  Then Hugh saunters over to the brush box and raises the back pole up 4 holes on each side.  What?  Who did he think was in the lesson?  Pippa?  Connoley and Brenda?  We were wondering if he had a transient memory lapse and forgot our chicken-livered limitations.  No matter how much Lindsey protested, the directions remained the same, go jump the jumps.  Of course Capote and Princess were perfect.  I sauntered over to the measuring stick, the arbitor of truth, the myth buster, the deflaiter.  But wait, 3'5.5"!  That is close enough to 3'6" to not be acused of exagerating too much. 

Princess got a well deserved trail ride with Sheila and Maggie on Sunday.  Back in the arena, more work at the counter canter, without stirrups, adductor muscles burning up mind you.  Today. I really felt like she was jumping out of the frame, staying slow but able to move up to a gapy distance, and stay balanced on the landing side.  Bouncy, fluid, cooperative, a blast to ride.  I am so lucky! 

We Flew the Coop!

Today. Sunday, things are traditionally very quiet at Riverside.  Most other barns are closed down and we have all the arenas between which to choose.  We chose Meredith's, right across the way.  The three of us, Lindsey, Lisa and myself on Capote, Samson and Princess respectively had a long flat lesson fine tuning frame, bend, submission, and trotting through the swarms of wasps with nary an ear twitch.  Then some low jumps.  Then the subtle and seemingly accidentally slipped in direction came from Hugh, "Jump the 6, keep cantering, jump into the trees over that coop and out of the trees over this one."

Coops.  Solids fences with a cross section of a triangle, solid face of boards on either side.  They were at the edge of the normal area.  Meredith's space has an extra appendage off one side, with scattered trees, a few paths through them, and these darn big coops.  Samson was perfect, big bold strides, jumped the two like nobody's business.  Them came Lindsey, also a perfect pair, and Capote soared.  Last were Princess and myself.  She did not suck back, jumped over the first coop, with a gentle drop off the far side, galloped through the trees with aplomb, and jumped the exit coop clean and careful.   What a blast.  The three bays walked home swishing their tails with a je ne sais quoi that was as close to cocky as I have seen them.  What fun!

What the Truck?

Fourth round of the modified 3'3" hunters at Sonoma Horse Park Strides and Tides September 2012 show.  Sean and YiOu in the audience watching me ride Princess for the first time.  Not that I am riding her for the first time.  She arrived March 13, 2011 and has been doted on carrots and treats ever since.  But Sean and YiOu, my son and daughter-in-law, have never bothered to get their behinds up here to see their Equus caballus sister.

Got to a great start with a bold distance to the first fence.  N.B. I usually chicken out and pop over the first fence very conservatively.  Rounded up the 5 to the 2 judges line, down the diagonal in 7.  That was stretched out to a measured distance of 99', 3 feet longer that a typical 12 foot stride of 96 feet and no problem with getting to the second fence.  Up the bending 6 and again no problem with making the distance.  Finally, in the "scary" corner returning to the single oxer with the super long approach, I noted a little motion in my left field of vision.

Rattle-rattle-rattle-whoosh.  It sounded like a machine gun.  It reminded me of New York City early morning bakeries opening up from their hermetically sealed bunkers.  It was the door of the catering truck ripping open.  It was loud.  Princess thought so too and jumped sideways 20 feet in 2 strides.  But I reminded her that "good" hunters are never unhinged, take everything in stride, and are always obedient and calm under all circumstances (meaning they are either dullards or act drugged).

In any event, a little inside leg bending her away from the cacophony, we were re-established and on our way to the last fence, and last place in that class.  On a lighter note, I did get two 75 scores the day before with 2 nice rounds.  We'll get there.  JP and UP

The Crazy Things That Go Through Your Head

Established, my trainer Hugh White, rides my horse Princess better than I do.  But I can acknowledge that and still have fun.  Take last weekend at the August Classic show, Sonoma Horse Park.

We had 4 classes, highly modified, but not genetically modified, 3'3" hunters.  9 fences each round, that is 36 jumps.  I can honestly report that we had:
no stops
no rails
no chips
no launchers
no starting off on the wrong lead
no going off course
no spacing out and thinking I might go off course and looking at all the jumps to see which way the flowers are facing so I can guess the next jump.

We still have a long way to go.  I was speaking to Mika, extolling Princess's virtue of putting up with my amateur moves and tolerating my mistakes.  Her reply: well, at least you vary your mistakes and don't make the same one over and over!

In the last course, I was approaching the single oxer.  I did see the impossibly long distance and demurred.  "Don't pull a Pebble Beach!" I told myself, remembering the chip to the single oxer in the same situation.  So I sat tight, compressed her stride a little without loosing impulsion, and jumped it fine.  I also did not want to ask for a favor, the extra long one, because you on'y get one favor per round from you steed.  After that, you are in favor-debt and they get real cautious.  I knew I had one more favor to ask with a 38 foot 2 stride, vertical to oxer. We met it spot on, so I could ask for the 2 extra feet over the oxer without resentment.

Here's to a variety of incompetences! When will I ever get "there"? Hoping.   JP

You Know the Horse Show is Over when the Laundry is Done

HUGHWONHUGHWONHUGHWON!

In no particular order, Hugh,, Lindsey, Brenda, Connolly, Debbie, Sheila and myself wandered down the coast to stunning Pebble Beach for the Almaden Farms Summer Show.  As if Hugh needed six women to tell him which tie to wear each day.  Debbie had to return, like the swallows of San Juan Capistrano, to her place of Alameden Farms Medal Final Victory in the near past of 2007.  But, alas, no one from HWTS qualified to recapture the trophy this year.  Hence, we all have to give it a go for next year!

At the other extreme of this sport, Junebug and Hugh went double clean, and had a stunningly fast jump off time to win the $5000 Julie Grey Jumper Classic Saturday night.  This gave us all an excuse to be rowdy and boisterous at barn after the class celebrating.  All the other evenings when we were rowdy and boisterous,  we had no excuse but carried on anyway.

Other horse updates and accomplishments:  Fiona remembered how to walk, trot and canter, and bring Lindsey to second place in Equitation Under Saddle.  Jumping was more of a challenge, and Hugh had to use all of his whiles to get the job done, but progress made daily and 7th in her final class.  Gypsy was a perfect gentleman in the hunter and equitation classes.  In addition, he studied hard for the written portion of the 4 phase Almaden Equitation Special.  Isn't is a coincidence that every horses' password to the internet is "CARROTS"?  He needed access to the PCHA rule book for the extremely challenging test.  Rules contradicting each other, which one is the last word on the subject?  Questions about the legality of a sidesaddle, adults on ponies, have Debbie fill you in on the grueling details.  Connolly's AP Chemistry class will be easy compared to that feat. Fanfair and Connolly won a class, always a blast.  Hooligan marched around the showgrounds and did get 2 trail rides to the beach for being so grown up acting.  Princess was extremely patient with every amateur move (aka mistake) I made and carted me around the 3'3" Modified Hunter division, and a sprinkling of very fun medal classes.  She got one trail ride the the beach for her extraordinary patience.

We are hopefully all home safe now.  Reporting from the field, Joan

I Know my Place in the Universe

Just finished a three day stint at Sonoma Horse Park, participating in the HMI June Classic Horse Show.  There were some firsts.  If I think about the novelty, the firsts, the unique events, this gig never gets boring.  First the first first.  Princess and I were in the under saddle equitaion class for people that can drive and pay their own horse show bills (meaning age 36 and over).  Princess knew it was a class and was on her best behavior.  In my mind, her head didn't go up more than an inch higher than it should, and she didn't bury it between her knees either.  She had impulsion but looked relaxed, not squeezed under pressure.  Nice prompt but not hurried transitions.  Some different activities than a normal class, plenty of sitting trot, a halt and a departure at the canter.  Fun stuff.  We lined up and my number was called first, I won the class.  Later I thought I imagined it, and asked the the back gait man, Anthony, if I misheard and snagged someone else's ribbon.  He said, yeah, the judge listed the numbers wrong but he let it go.  Really, a mistake.  I know my place in the universe.  6th in the real world. So the first first was imaginary, elusive, evanescent..

The second first was the 100 degree rule, jackets optional, and sunglasses very helpful.  I would have wilted off the saddle if I had to wear a jacket.  Check out the Men in Black look.

The third first was coaching.  Hugh had to get ready and walk the Grand Prix just when Jennifer was going to show.  There was a bit of a snag since he asked Jody as well and neither of us knew the other was asked. We chose the covered arena to stay cool.  Charlie was cautious in the beginning, but opened up his stride without going too fast and struck that just right balance.  Jennifer and Charlie did 3 nice rounds.  He scurried sideways when the judge stood up an coughed when they were not 10 feet away, right next to the judge's stand.  But Jennifer re-convinced him that there was no one chasing him, told him to chill and get his act together, and finished up nicely.  That was unanticipated, but probably unavoidable too.

The last first was jumping 3'3" in the PCHA Medal Class, first time with Princess at that height.  What a gas.  Walk in, pick up the canter and proceed to the first jump, an oxer, with no circle.  Roll back to the right for fence 2, roll back to the left and trot fence three.  We cleverly landed on the right lead and turned 270 degrees to fence 4, another oxer, building momentum in the turn to make the long distance that presented itself work.  She bent perfectly, I kept her haunches a little to the outside so they were travelling a longer track and therefore had to add power.  Up the 2 stride and down the diagonal and trot out of the arena.  6th place (a real sixth place this time, no mistakes) and very happy with the round.  And I had a fan club, HWTS Misfits and Ed and Rowena DeMayo.

That's all from the participant's blog.  See you next month!  Joan

We Are Talking Way Too Pink Here

Projects start in your head and end up in your hands.  I just finished my entry for the Marin County Fair.  It is a saddle pad, more accurately, a liner between the cushy pad and the horse that can be washed easily and kept clean and dry.  Clean in horse terms is relative.  Less that caked visible dirt is clean.  On the other hand, keeping the saddle area as clean as possible reduces any chance of abrasion injury.

At the last Tamalpais Textile Arts Guild meeting, weaver and artist Sheila O'Hara shared her body of work.  A double faced twill caught my eye.  She graciously shared the draft from a magazine article she wrote.  She used bright, really bright, colors.  "Go out in the garden., look around, see what mother nature uses, don't be afraid!"  Or something like that.  So, my lupines were in bloom, Some native roses and guava blossoms caught my eye.  I generally drift towards a more neutral palate, grey, taupe, ecru, white, black, maybe an earthy olive thrown in.  But echoing in my head was advice from friends, use color for once.  Fuchsia and lime green, what was I thinking?  Hallucinations in technicolor.

Now to the technical part.  1296 ends, that is threads in the loom before I even start weaving.  Why 1296?  because I wanted the fabric hefty, so that is 36 ends per inch x 36 inches before wash/dry shrinking it down to 31 inches.  And 1296=18x72 (72 ends per 2 inch sections of the sectional beam)=8x162 (8 ends groups in the double faced twill threading).  I graded the colors to look like three dimensional bands, with 7 color changes, off set as if the light was shining slightly off from one side.  Then every single ends had to be sleyed into one and only one heddle, 3 per dent in the reed, tensioned, and finally weaving could begin.  But what if I didn't like it after all that?  Too bad, complete the project and move on.   

So move on I did, every night throwing the shuttle and adjusting the selvage so the judge would not have to point out any technical shortcomings.  Not that I am sensitive or anything.  Cut off the loom, zigzag the hems for security, wash and dry to integrate the fibers, and take a look.  From 20 feet away, pretty cool looking.  But form up close, it literally makes you dizzy!  Designing functional fabric is harder than it looks.  On to the the next project.  Hope Princess look pretty in Pink.

The Lesson

How do you explain adrenaline?  Some things happen spontaneously, and some thing happen after long periods of planning.  Today's adrenaline happened with the former.

I was innocently riding my horse, U-Princess in a lesson. The last jump was great.  Just the right amount of energy, not too much or too little. She popped over a 3'4" oxer.  That is exactly 4 inches higher than a door mat, meaning my usual 3' jumping height.  But I could feel her pay attention, put out a little more energy, gracefully arch her back like a tiger jumping into water, and complete the perfect arch.  She got a well deserved time grazing spring grass and a thorough grooming.

Next, I was assigned to exercise Junebug.  I have ridden her about monthly for a few years.  We walk, trot and canter both directions, safe stuff to get her out of the stall and stay fit.  He is my trainer's Grand Prix jumper.  Wow.  I have never jumped her;  I have never trotted her over a pole on the ground.

I was with three buddies and they were on green horses doing a fantastic job getting them over - door mats.  We were doing an exercise of trotting over cavalettis, cantering an in-and-out and trotting out.  Lots of cooperation is needed to get that done, even with door mat sized jumps.  Junebug was calm and cooperative and played along.  Then Hugh instructed the other three to do this and that.  I thought I was done.  But, no, a surprise awaits.

"Joan, start on the right lead, jump the cross rail and jump the wall."  Okay, done.  Not terrible, not scary, still have control of this stick of dynamite with a one millimeter fuse sparking away.  Stay cool.   Next, jump the vertical.  Done, bigger, slower on the approach but still a formula one car on the landing.  Lastly, left lead over a vertical and a 180 degree turn over an oxer. This was a very good plan.  The short turn kept her at less than Mach one speed.  Junebug jumped the two jumps seemingly with less effort that it took her to blink in the bright sun.  The measuring stick went up.  3'9"!  A full nine inches higher than a door mat!  Thanks for the lesson, Hugh

"Meeting" Will Simpson

Recently, a retired horse show mom told me to check out horseshowtime.com to get information about the event I was just about to dash off too.  One can check schedules and how many people are in each class.  "See who else is there,"  she exclaimed.  I scrolled down the list.  I saw a name, Will Simpson. "He's famous" I blurted out.  The retired horse show mom was flummoxed, never heard of him.  A quick Google search confirmed the obvious.  I was right, he is famous, part of Team Gold, Beijing Olympics 2008.

Then, I instantly went into anxiety mode.  What if I was there at the show and never got to see him ride?  What if I could not figure out who he was.  Excuse me?  A guy at a horse show, how many choices were there?

Day 1: We were all sharing the one covered arena to school.  A guy about the right age was schooling a really green horse. His jacket was embroidered "Simpson Show Jumpers."   Could be him, I thought to myself.  But still room for doubt. Always the optimist.

Day 2: Another green horse with talent.  Another jacket.  This time it was embroidered:  Team Gold Beijing Olympics.  This time I was a little more sure of his identity.

Day 3:  Warming up in the mud pit, I mean schooling arena.  He was on another green prospect.   He finished and was standing still.  I was cantering Princess around to jump another doormat-sized jump.  He did not see me and turned to exit, causing me to stop abruptly to avoid crashing into him.  He apologized and said "Oh, I guess it is not all about me..."  and we both laughed.  Princess was perfect jumping the door mat and I got to "meet" Will Simpson.

Why Not to Go to a Horse Show When It Is Raining

                                                Mud-Splattered Gate at Capital City Show

This takes deep thought and consternation.  Think of all the reasons why NOT to go to a horse show when it is raining.  The immediate reasons come to mind.  That rain is water falling from the sky.  It meets the ground and turn perfectly respectable dirt into mud.  That mud is churned up by horses hooves and turns into something resembling brownie batter but smelling much worse.  That you have visions of the uncomfortable act of falling off, not onto soft clean carefully maintained footing but the aforementioned brownie-batter-turned-plankton-incubation-nursery of the Western World.  Regular falling off is an ego-bruising experience.  Falling off into one foot deep brownie-batter-but-smelling-much-worse earth is a game changer.  I brought three complete outfits just in case.  Fortunately, I did not need to use them.

Hugh, Lindsey, and I braved the storms of the greater Sacramento area to attend the capital City Horse Show and Rudy Leone's Equestrian Center this week.  Hugh rode and schooled six horses, and slogged through classes Wednesday and Thursday.  I arrived Thursday to rain and thunder and rising water table.  Earth met the aquifer and was loosing ground.  Every hoof print became a spring, a font of water, a wallow, a stink hole.  I become less enamored with the place with every inch of precipitation.  But then, of course, I reminded myself, life begins with water, droughts are tough and, and finally, just get over it.

So we went to work.  All horses instantly became water masters.  Forging the large river just to get from our barn "N" to the schooling arenas was a challenge.  Princess, who does not like to get dirty, tried to place her feet on the least muddy ground available, but eventually accepted defeat.  Schooling over fences was like figure eighting over liverpools.  Getting in to the arena was a cross country challenge.  On our first round, Princess was so distracted that she barely saw the fences in time to jump.  Not a pretty sight.

On Sunday, I changed tact and assumed a "just get over it" attitude.  I told her: if Noah's arc was going to pick you up, it would have been here by now.  But until you see the gangway, please just do what I say.  Gallop through the mud and jump the jumps.  And so, for three rounds on Sunday, we did just that.  Adult Amateur 3 foot hunters, second, third and fifth places -- nice consistent rounds with no nonsense and no playing around.  There were no excuses for the unusual circumstances.  That was fun.

Other notables:  Capote competed in his first Hunter Derby.  He was probably knocked out of the ribbons by the famous "Capote Rap".  He knocked a rail so loud it was heard in Vacaville, it registered 1.9 on the Richter Scale.  Duncan McFarlan told Hugh he needed luck like that in the Grand Prix, being able to hit a rail that hard and not knock it down.  Lindsey and I blamed the mud.  See below for more mud details.  Summer horse shows are going to be a dream.

And here it is!

Japan March 2012

Japanese Musings

What do you say to a free trip to Tokyo for a week?  The Oakland A’s played 2 exhibition games against Japanese teams and 2 season games against the Seattle Mariners in the Tokyo Dome.  Evidently, the Japanese watch more American Baseball than their local Japanese games.  It was supposed to be a match up with Ishiro versus Matsui, but that would involve re-signing the latter.  Would have created more buzz, but Billy had his own ideas. 

Stephanie and John move in for the 12 hour flight


Chartered all-business class flight from Phoenix (everyone else was at Spring Training) to Narita Airport, 12 short hours later, 2 hour bus ride, and we’re here!  Our home away from home, the New Otani Hotel.  I feel like I am transparent, invisible.  All eyes are on the players, any chance for a photo or autograph, and all ancillary personnel and guests just muck up the sight lines to their intended prey.
The players display athletic might on the field.  The wives and girlfriends display their athleticism everywhere else.  How else can you accomplish walking down sidewalks with 6 inch platform heels?



The 16 hour time difference means I am in a constant state of stupor.  Is it too early or too late?  And which day is it, by the way?  We arrived on a cold rainy blustery day. The next day, just as cold, more windy but no rain.  What do 35 million Tokyoites do on a Saturday? They try to get out of town and see some greenery.  So we joined the thousands exiting the city, at 12 miles an hour average speed on the elevated highway, to Hakune, an area with a caldera lake and viewing of the beautiful snow covered Mt Fugi.  The 60 mile per hour gusts of wind did not dissuade us from going up on the gondola to see steam vents spewing instantly condensed water on the inner walls of the ancient volcano.  One youngster was brave enough to ask me in English where I was from.  All his buddies hid behind him and giggled, but he did a nice job.  

Mt Fugi with cap cloud


The evening’s challenge is to walk around the hotel’s immediate neighborhood and pick a restaurant, from hundreds of choices.  We wanted to try a different style every evening, that night was Shabu shabu, kind of like Japanese fondue with meat and vegetables cooked at the table in a bubbling broth.  A dunk in either a sesame sauce or ponzu sauce made it really delicious.  Green tea ice cream provided a refreshing finish.  



The next day, we enjoyed to company of a local expert, Mika Takaki.  Her web site, for those Tokyo bound, is  www.tokyofoodtour.com.  She is a chef and catering manager for a restaurant chain.  She went to cooking school with Lisa Fleming who made the connection.  We dined in another new (for us) Japanese style restaurant with skewers fried sequentially during the meal (dieters order 8 sticks, normal people 10, us 12!), then dipped in either a brown sauce or, guess what, ponzu sauce.  Boy, that stuff is good.  Miso soup and salad, delicious meal.  Then we wandered the Ginza district and inspected the food items at the fancy department store.  200 dollar cantaloupes make the investment in the farm in Petaluma more logical.  Desserts are seasonal, and March means cherry blossoms.  We had bean paste embellished with a pickled cherry blossom wrapped in a pickled cherry leaf, you eat the whole thing, blossom, leaf and all.  A funny combination of sweet and slightly salty.  As in everything in Japan, the wrapping of even the smallest purchase is purposeful.  The box with the 2 bonbons included a thin envelope with 3 bamboo toothpicks, the outer skin of the bamboo still on and decorative.  

But you can’t just scarf down edibles anywhere you want, special seating areas for nibbling are provided, or take home to imbibe.  There is no one eating while walking on the street or riding on the subway, ever! Except Allan.  



Walking the streets can be a balletic experience.  At the corner, you are among 200 people, facing another two hundred people.  The light changes to green and all proceed paced and unhurried.  All intersect like a 400 person marching band and no one even brushes a shoulder.  Similarly, this unhurried polite pace is maintained in other venues as well.  One ducks into a small restaurant and is ushered to a table.  Your order is taken, food served, and no hit of hurry or impatience on the staff’s part.  

The next free day, we took the train 25 miles south of Tokyo to Kamakura.  Home of beautiful temples, this is the Japan of posters (when they are not showing Kyoto, that is).  Every cherry blossom tree had its admirers snapping away, iPhones, cameras, anything to keep the image of spring alive longer that the actual bloom on the tree.  Evidently, they are not a fruiting variety so sidewalks are not like roller derby skate halls at fruit drop.  

Final day, off to the Tokyp Dome, saw an exciting baseball game and then headed immediately for the airport and home.  Just as if the team were in Seattle or Dallas.  But slightly longer flight.  Ambein better kick some serious insomnia butt tonight.  


A sweet win, quick flight home, and editing blog at 3 am because of jet lag. Great trip.

Great Excuses

The scene - Today's jumping lesson

The details - I completed a 3'3" course with the a few bone-headed amateur moves that Princess did not appreciate.  But we evened things out and did okay the second round.  Hugh turns to Lindsey and says, your turn.  In no time, there were 15 to 20 excuses pouring out in stacatto.  But the last round was fine!  But I 'm tired!  But Capote is even tireder! But I haven't been jumping for 2 and a half weeks! But I thought I was done!

It sounded like she was throwing herself at the Grand Inquisitors feet begging for mercy, But I only stole a tiny piece of bread to feed my starving nefew (yes, Les Miz just re-aired on channel 9).  All of use there cracked up; she did the course, and did a beautiful job.

The moral of the story - Just shut up and jump the jumps.

Einstein Was Wrong

In my most simplified view of Einstein's special relativity, time slows down and distances shorten, when you approach the speed of light.  At horse shows, time speeds up and distances elongate.  Let me tell you about my last 4 days at the Northern Winter Classics and Rancho Murieta to prove my point.

1. Get up at 5 AM to get to the cold dark showgrounds.
2. School the horses in their arenas that they will be showing later in the day.
3. Get out before the water truck and tractor dragging a most horse-horrifying harrow preps it for the day, and before all your calming schooling is completely undone.  
4. Get dressed in show clothes.
5. Stay relatively clean (did I mention horse shows and dusty and dirty?  Add a 30 mile per hour wind, and the dirt turns into a pumice stone scrubbing at an expensive spa, with your clothes inconveniently still on.).
6. Get the right number tied to your back.
7. Learn your course.
8. Ignore the fact that your mount is looking at every loose dog and flying plastic bag when there are ten 3x3 foot jumps they have to jump in their way.  How is it that they look off at the horizon following some random tracing of a leaf blowing in the wind, but a candy-cane stripped fence as big as the sofa in your living room causes no notice until they are twenty feet away, travelling at 12 miles per hour, giving them 1.13 seconds to get their 4 legs wound up and coordinated for lift off.  You, on the other hand, were introducing them the obstacle much further back.  But no, they would mot listen.  Like teenage boys listening to their mothers.  "Yes mom"  means "I have no idea what you just said."

I rode Princess and Private Capote in the Adult Amateur 3 foot hunter division.  First day, 2 rounds each, some dumb amateur moves with last minute changes of plan on the distances.  Sorry, guys. please forgive me. But we muddled through and got some ribbons.  Next day markedly better, more rhythmic canter and more coordinated rounds.  Capote get a second and third, so I put him in the flat class for a chance at a championship or reserve.  I liked what he did, but we came in 6th and did not reach the aforementioned goal.

Saturday was also marked by Hugh's return to the Grand Prix arena in La Princessa.  It was a beautiful round,  she was balanced and cadenced the whole way, but just as effectively fast as ever.  She just rolled off the last rail of the triple combination (others rapped it harder but it stuck, damn), and came in a respectable 6th.  

Now we are up to Sunday and we got to go in the Grand Prix arena!  What fun.  Little jumps in a big jump ring, like kids playing dress up and sloshing around in their mother's high heels. Small detail, Princess and Capote have never shown in that ring before.  Princess's only other exposure to that environment was the post-traumatic-stress-inducing Halloween costume class.  Seeing horses with airplane wings can get some unglued.

So back to getting up at 5, getting both in the arena.   Working through their "issues:"  Princess was first in the 3 foot equitation class over fences.  The first 2 fences were a straight line of 2 oxers a full 84 feet apart, six true 12 foot long strides.  Roll back to a narrow vertical, 5 strides to another oxer, bending line, roll back to a one stride on the diagonal in the middle of the arena with a blind approach, then the fence on the center line at the end, 7 strides and a right hand turn to an oxer, and 7 strides with a dog leg and collection to the last fence, with a sharp right and turn so you don't just jump out of the arena.

I overheard the judge giving the line up to the announce and heard my number 506.  So I know I placed somewhere.  But I won the class!! Then third in the flat class, which got me into the bonus class, CWD Concour d 'Equitation.  It was great to have another round, really got Princess in a nice frame and went around with no drama, got 5th place, but first place among participants who could drive themselves to the show (yes, beaten by teenagers again).

The second star (after La Princessa) was Private Capote.  I entered him, with Lindsey's permission, in the Cloverleaf Medal Class.  Same arena.  Same distracting ambiance and novelty.  He was a saint.  Measured and consistent (Princess, are you listening?), it was a nice round.  This course was so different from hunter rounds.  Here jumps were appearing to be scattered all over the arena at different angles.  No direct sight lines, jumps appearing after tight corners.  But with all the practice of leaf distractions (see above), seemed not to matter.  We were on notice to wait around for the work off.  So Capote got a long walk, one jump in the warm up arena to wake up, and I tentatively took off to jump fences 4-6a-6b-7-9-3-2 in that order.  The teenager whom I was jumping off against was surrounded by her doting trainer and all the horse show mom's at her barn who were reveling in the moment of having their kip being in the work off in a class of 17.  I told her that her entourage was much bigger than my entourage (which consisted of Kiara).

So that is my tale.  During the 70 seconds each of the above described courses took, time seemed to speed up, not slow down.  Though by the last day, it finally seemed real time and not too amped up.  And distance measurements?  Those fences look way bigger than what I could jump left to my own devices, the distances in the lines like an ocean to cross in the allotted number of strides, but Princess and Capote both stepped up to the plate and did their jobs, each in their own style, as different as night and day, but both fabulous partners.