I hate January.
And February.
And November and December and the latter half of October and March and most of April, too.
I am just not a cold-weather person.
I live in Colorado; one of the sunniest states in the union, so it’s not my vitamin D deficiency speaking.
No, it’s because for almost six months out of the year, I hardly get to ride.
My regular readers have heard a few stories about my horses, and they truly are the lights of my life. Poor SU, kitties and puppy. They all compete with His Klutziness and His Stubbornness for my time and attention half the year.
And now that it’s January, the most gawdawful month of the year, I’m getting cranky.
Riding is my sanity and my soul. And without an indoor arena, which I can’t afford (to board at a facility with one, I mean), I only get to ride on those serendipitous days when the outdoor arena isn’t a soupy catastrophe.
I do the occasional trail ride down the road, but that’s not really enough to scratch the itch.
When I say ride, I don’t mean a mellow little jog around the arena. My rides consist of at least 45 minutes of work when we’re at peak condition. If I’m not exhausted after exercising both of my boys, I haven’t done a good job.
Both are primarily hunter-jumpers, but have been cross-trained for Western, and I also do some dressage and gymkhana work to keep them fresh and enthusiastic.
I dream about riding. I spend December, when the crankiness starts to set in, working out a conditioning plan for the boys so I’m ready to start back up in April (which is usually when the arena is dry) or March, if I’m really lucky.
Show schedules start being published around now, and I start imagining blue ribbons in my future and saving for show entry fees. I block off Saturdays and Sundays on my calendar and start sorting through my show clothes. This year I have a new pair of boots; so I’ve been wearing them here and there, standing with my toes on a stair and my heels down to break them in.
(And yes, it looks ridiculous)
Today for some reason, I’m really jonesing. Sitting at my desk at the office, I’m staring out the window at the clear, sunny Colorado day.
And scowling because the freezing and thawing process continues.
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Christine Macdonald
Judy Berman
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Comments
R
Rated
:(
So...you want a new roommate? I'll help clean the stalls.
Lovely post, rated.
April showers in Colorado are apt to be of the fluffy white sort. Well, spring snow is really wet, actually, so they help with the spring crop of mud.
My oldest daughter rode, she helped with lessons for others too. She loved it!
I do understand this..Hope it clears up soon for you..
Donna -- Yeah, we get those heavy, wet April snowstorms here in NoCo. And yes, it always takes about two weeks of consistent work to get the jitters out of them, but they're pasture boys, so they can theoretically trot around all they want.
Littlewillie -- Ha! I'll still take my dry Colorado summers over Florida humidity.
Gwen -- You wouldn't even have to clean stalls; my guys live in the pasture year-round. Come on by anytime!
Thoth -- Thanks. And I wouldn't mind it, if I could actually ride in the winter. Before they tore down my indoor riding arena, I was a perfectly happy camper all year.
Regana -- Ahhh yes, that lovely spring mud crop. The kind where I spend hours with a curry comb trying to remove the mud to find the horse buried under it.
High Lonesome -- It really has. Down here in the flatland, we've had snow accumulation since the beginning of December. It's kind of unreal.
Lunchlady -- You've got the image about right. I'm trotting and cantering past the window, keeping my shoulders back and my arms bent slightly at the elbows, wrists straight and hands at a 45 degree angle while I count the strides to the imaginary fences.
-R-
Heron -- Well, maybe if I'm really lucky it'll be shining next week in SoCal.
http://www.audiosparx.com/sa/archive/Mammals/Horses/Horse-whiney/218
Did I tell you I knew a woman who used to ride her horse along the ocean in California?
Kathy -- Oh, I'm jealous! Course, my boys are uneasy about water, so I might spend more time keeping them moving in a straight line than enjoying the experience.