Thursday, April 28, 2011

In which I cave to the tremendous stress of blogreader peer pressure

Becky is such a whiner.  Perhaps I haven't been posting because not much has been happening?

Not an excuse, according to Becky.  She can manufacture hilarity out of thin air, I've seen her do it.  So, to shut her up, I've written a blog post about Swamp Life.

Y'all know that I live in a Swamp.  This is not a surprise to regular readers (I hope).
It may surprise you to learn that this spring has been even wetter than usual.
Our normal Spring weather leaves residents with the perpetual sensation of just having stepped from a refreshingly brisk shower.  Our skin is pale, but dewy.  Our surroundings are soft, green, and reminiscent of sappy ballads sung by Irish tenors about the green green hills of home.
 This year has included some of the wettest Spring weather on record in the Swampland. 

Meteorogists (or as we locals call them, "the weather-guessers") report that our temperatures this season are 90% cooler than normal.  This leaves us with the perpetual sensation of stepping from the brisk shower and being immediately wrapped head-to-toe in six layers of clammy, wet towels.  Our skin is pallid, waterlogged, and collectively we resemble the school of fish swimming in Gollum's cave. 
Optimists (there are some here, despite our best efforts to drown them before they learn to speak) point out that we are enjoying a record year for moss-growth on the timber.   

I can hardly contain my enthusiasm for moss growth.

It ranks up there with discovering a new kind of grub in the woodpile.  Whee.

I continue to ride, however.  The Fish have showed me a bunch of "trails" that are actually logging roads...and are thus armored with heavy rock so that they don't wash out under the wheels of logging rigs.  Normally a logging road is my least favorite kind of terrain, but during soggy spring weather, gravel is just fine. 

Astute readers will perhaps know that there is a drawback to training on logging roads:

I've demonstrated Fee's patience  nonchalance in the face of working machinery in the past

This is one of those "don't try this activity at home" activities:

Just to emphasize the loveliness of a horse who is a member of Team Sensible, I want to draw attention to Fiddle's headgear on the trail today:
Look Ma!
No bit in my mouth!

This sidepull is about as strong as an elderly halter with a leadrope looped through. 

I've been using it without the bit sometimes when Fiddle and I are out solo (because when we're with the group I want a little more control in case she decides to shoot off her cannons at another horse), but today was the first day we did the entire ride (2.5 hours, about 14 miles) without a bit.

Result:  no worries, no problems.  My goal is to be able to ride her without a bit in competition. 



(I know:  it's a good thing I'm still young!)

Meantime:  Life. Is. Good.
(but also quite damp)