Monday, December 29, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Land Before Time- barn edition
"It's awright Petrie. Lots of things do no fly. Rocks.. Sticks.. Spike." Littlefoot. Sera. Ducky. Petrie. SPIKE. We all know them. They're the the "kids" from the Land Before Time movies and cartoon series. It's one of those movies with universal age appeal. We're getting our very own Land Before Time cast at the barn. First, we have Oliver, starring as Littlefoot... Party as Ducky... and Spike starring as HIMSELF. Spike is our resident newbie. He's a big. He's got chrome. He's a fancy mover. Sweet as the day is long, and sometimes, just sometimes, we call him "Steggy" as in Stegosaurus- since that is what "Spike" was in LBT, and they've got a brain the size of a walnut, located, appropriately, in their tail.
Really, though, he's a darling. I can't say he isn't scared of anything- but he's a master of the "advance and retreat" school. If there's something scary, it goes like this: Snort. Blow. Jump backward. March up to it. Touch it. Promptly forget anything was scary in the first place. He's the spitting image, training-wise of his half sister that we had in last summer. He's a better mover up front, and so powerfull behind as to overpower himself sometimes. This can lead to some entertaining moments as he's starting to learn how to balance himself on small circles, with a saddle. It's good he's athletic, because sometimes, he's not quite gracefull.
He's steady. He's cute. Even now, in the early stages, he doesn't let much rattle him. His topline even stays pretty much the same. Spike doesn't learn anything in lightening quick flashes. On the flip side of that, because he doesn't jump forward in his progress, he doesn't fall back either. He's progressing along the learning curve at a steady, plodding, forward pace. Spike was named after the character in "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer". To know him, however, is to suspect he's more accurately named after Spike from the Land Before Time.
Really, though, he's a darling. I can't say he isn't scared of anything- but he's a master of the "advance and retreat" school. If there's something scary, it goes like this: Snort. Blow. Jump backward. March up to it. Touch it. Promptly forget anything was scary in the first place. He's the spitting image, training-wise of his half sister that we had in last summer. He's a better mover up front, and so powerfull behind as to overpower himself sometimes. This can lead to some entertaining moments as he's starting to learn how to balance himself on small circles, with a saddle. It's good he's athletic, because sometimes, he's not quite gracefull.
He's steady. He's cute. Even now, in the early stages, he doesn't let much rattle him. His topline even stays pretty much the same. Spike doesn't learn anything in lightening quick flashes. On the flip side of that, because he doesn't jump forward in his progress, he doesn't fall back either. He's progressing along the learning curve at a steady, plodding, forward pace. Spike was named after the character in "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer". To know him, however, is to suspect he's more accurately named after Spike from the Land Before Time.
Bah Humbug!
Ho ho ho. Tis the season. You know what I'm taking about- the season for hot cocoa (made with milk, and extra marshmallows of course!), pies, hams, cookies, (oooooohhhhh oh oh... the coooookkkiiieesss. {pardon this pause in the regularly scheduled program- must wipe away the drool}), carmels, cakes, cookies, candy canes, gingerbread, puddings, cookies, cookies and... did I mention cookies? There's sugar cookies, gingerbread cookies, chocolate chip, pineapple, oatmeal, chocolate drop, snickerdoodles, no bakes, peanut butter,... The list is virtually endless. Oooooh. Excuse me. I'm drooling again.
And so, here I am. I have the will power of a gnat, especially, when it comes to sweet stuff. I've been trying valiently since the last big Fat Holiday (Thanksgiving) to cut back. I'm not as, um, as metabollically resilient as I used to be. Alas, there was a time I ate like I was retarded. This hasn't exactly caught up to me, per se. I just can't do it anymore. If I did, I'd blow up like you shoved an an air-hose into one of my orifices. So I've changed to sugar-substitute in my coffee (even at Dunkin Donuts!) and cut out a lot of the creamer. I've chopped most of the bread out of my diet too. All enriched white bread is "adios". Sticking with whole grain- and mostly wheat at that. And still the cookies call my name. Cookies at home. Cookies at the barn. Cookies are the 'gift de jour' this season. Alas, the sweet taste of weight gain.
So how am I reinforcing my wishy-washy willpower? Aside from chewing off my fingernails? I'll let you in on a little secret... It's BREECHES. Yes, breeches. I'm talking about hunt seat breeches. It's always enough of a trauma to slip (okay, shimmy, bounce, yank and pry) them on for the first time at the beginning of show season. It's worse if they don't fit at all. It's worse yet if you're trying to ride and worrying about splitting a seam. When you put on the hunt seat clothes, you generally try to project a certain image. A "Look". Long, lean and in harmony with your horse. Not overpowering them. Not looking like the RIDER should be hooked to a plow. Normally I plan on being "fighting-fit" sometime at the beginning of summer. I figure (pun intended?) that I'll peak in late October- same as my horses. Not this year however.
This year I have an extra bit of mental ammunition to use to bolster my feeble will-power. I've got to look good in my breeches by mid-June. The Pinto World Show is one of the first World Shows of the year. It comes at a time that's particularly early for us northeasters. Traditionally, up here, we don't feel like we've safely shaken off the last of snow's flakes until we've passed the Memorial Day mark. We may be wearing shorts, but our scarves aren't far from our reach. The winter, "insulating", weight goes on us fast. It tends to come off very slowly. So instead of indulging for the holidays and worrying about it later, I've got to be more aware of my intake. I've got to start now getting fit. Alas, my cookie intake is limited for the season. So, unfair! Where is the joy?! Still... a few chocolate chips, weighed against a World Championship? The chips lose. Sure, no one wins a World title just because they look hot in their hunt clothes, but you can sure bet it cuts their odds of winning WAY DOWN if they look like a beige blimp.
Edit 1: Okay, okay.. upon re-reading this, I realized it sounds pretty darn superficial, and so I'll add a little something that I figured just "went without saying". I'm not cutting back on my cookie consumption JUST because I want to look better. UGH. Let's face it. I want to be fit. Maybe even healthy. (Of course, the Russians have a saying- "If you don't drink and you don't smoke, you'll only die healthy". Amen.) When I'm thin and I'm fit I ride better. When I ride better, my horses certainly appreciate it.
And so, here I am. I have the will power of a gnat, especially, when it comes to sweet stuff. I've been trying valiently since the last big Fat Holiday (Thanksgiving) to cut back. I'm not as, um, as metabollically resilient as I used to be. Alas, there was a time I ate like I was retarded. This hasn't exactly caught up to me, per se. I just can't do it anymore. If I did, I'd blow up like you shoved an an air-hose into one of my orifices. So I've changed to sugar-substitute in my coffee (even at Dunkin Donuts!) and cut out a lot of the creamer. I've chopped most of the bread out of my diet too. All enriched white bread is "adios". Sticking with whole grain- and mostly wheat at that. And still the cookies call my name. Cookies at home. Cookies at the barn. Cookies are the 'gift de jour' this season. Alas, the sweet taste of weight gain.
So how am I reinforcing my wishy-washy willpower? Aside from chewing off my fingernails? I'll let you in on a little secret... It's BREECHES. Yes, breeches. I'm talking about hunt seat breeches. It's always enough of a trauma to slip (okay, shimmy, bounce, yank and pry) them on for the first time at the beginning of show season. It's worse if they don't fit at all. It's worse yet if you're trying to ride and worrying about splitting a seam. When you put on the hunt seat clothes, you generally try to project a certain image. A "Look". Long, lean and in harmony with your horse. Not overpowering them. Not looking like the RIDER should be hooked to a plow. Normally I plan on being "fighting-fit" sometime at the beginning of summer. I figure (pun intended?) that I'll peak in late October- same as my horses. Not this year however.
This year I have an extra bit of mental ammunition to use to bolster my feeble will-power. I've got to look good in my breeches by mid-June. The Pinto World Show is one of the first World Shows of the year. It comes at a time that's particularly early for us northeasters. Traditionally, up here, we don't feel like we've safely shaken off the last of snow's flakes until we've passed the Memorial Day mark. We may be wearing shorts, but our scarves aren't far from our reach. The winter, "insulating", weight goes on us fast. It tends to come off very slowly. So instead of indulging for the holidays and worrying about it later, I've got to be more aware of my intake. I've got to start now getting fit. Alas, my cookie intake is limited for the season. So, unfair! Where is the joy?! Still... a few chocolate chips, weighed against a World Championship? The chips lose. Sure, no one wins a World title just because they look hot in their hunt clothes, but you can sure bet it cuts their odds of winning WAY DOWN if they look like a beige blimp.
Edit 1: Okay, okay.. upon re-reading this, I realized it sounds pretty darn superficial, and so I'll add a little something that I figured just "went without saying". I'm not cutting back on my cookie consumption JUST because I want to look better. UGH. Let's face it. I want to be fit. Maybe even healthy. (Of course, the Russians have a saying- "If you don't drink and you don't smoke, you'll only die healthy". Amen.) When I'm thin and I'm fit I ride better. When I ride better, my horses certainly appreciate it.
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