Tomorrow You Should Wear Breeches

My alarm was going off, but instead of waking me, it just became part of my dream. The sound of my horse's feet hitting the ground in perfect four-beat rhythm soon turned to beep beep, beep beep, beep beep.

"Where is that beeping coming from?" I asked Mister as we galloped across the field. Stirring from my dream, I remembered and sat straight up in bed. It was 6am and a start to a new day at a new job working in trade for riding lessons with Molly. I hit my alarm, leapt out of bed, and pulled on a pair of wind pants and a T-shirt. I had my own chores in the barn to take care of before heading to Molly's barn at 7:30.

I felt as if it took me forever to get stalls cleaned. I had two horses to feed, turnout, and clean stalls for. One was my beautiful chestnut Morgan/Saddlebred cross gelding, Mister and the other, my equally handsome dark bay Standardbred gelding named Star. Mister at the age of 17, was completely sound and ready for anything. Star, at the age of 14, had chronic arthritis that gave him good days and bad days. During that time, he was having few more good days than bad and spent most of his time in a pasture or being ponied beside Mister. His sound riding days were limited.

Finished with my chores, I threw a few flakes of hay and a halter into my blue LL Bean backpack, saddled up Mister, and headed to Molly's barn. I was running later then I had planned and forgot to change into riding clothes before leaving.

Upon arriving at the barn, I untacked Mister, dumped out the hay in my backpack, and turned him loose in the small paddock that Molly had shown me the previous day. Molly was already in the indoor arena with a student and called out to me to come in, take a seat, and observe. Their were two lessons going on, one on each half of the arena. Molly stood in the front end of the arena with a whip, a girl on a lovely bay Dutch Warmblood worked around her on a circle at the trot. On the other end, Molly's oldest daughter, Alison lunged a young girl on a large draft cross.

I sat towards the center of the arena taking in as much of both lessons as I could at once. My attention would soon be directed only at the lesson Molly taught as she became louder and stricter, demanding that the rider ask the horse to gradually bend and stretch first to the outside of the circle and then to the inside. "Can you see how crooked he is?!" she half yelled.

At the time, I had no idea what she was talking about. "Look at what you are doing with your hands! Look at what you are doing to his neck! Keep him moving forward! He's falling to the outside. Leg, leg, outside leg!"

Instead of using outside leg, the rider started using the reins to guide the horse back into the circle and Molly reached up and grabbed the rein, startling the horse and rider and bringing them both into a tight circle. She leaned up towards the rider, the rein still in her hand. The tone of her voice was firm as she gave directions, but her voice was barely above a whisper. I still have no idea what she said. The rider went back out on the circle and this time Molly seemed pleased with how they were going. About 10 minutes later, both lessons were finished and attention was turned to me.

Molly lead me over to the large draft cross that had been doing the lunge lesson and introduced him as John. John was a very big, very friendly 3 year old Belgium/Paint cross gelding and I would be riding him today during a short lunge lesson. With the help of a mounting block, I mounted up and began adjusting the stirrups. "You wont be needing those during this lesson", Molly stated as she moved the mounting block and put John out on the circle at the end of the lunge line.

John's walk was large and swaying. I sat perfectly straight, hands by my sides, heels down, trying my hardest to look like I belonged here. Molly asked John for a trot. His trot was large and powerful. I suddenly regretted my choice of not changing into breeches and arriving in wind pants, as I began to slide. I fought my slippery pants and remained in the saddle at a less than graceful sitting trot. "Those pants aren't really the best for riding", Alison stated.

"I was in a hurry and forgot to change" I explained still concentrating heavily on staying on.

"Posting trot", Molly announced and by some miracle, despite my slippery wind pants, I managed a posting trot. Smiling, Molly brought John into a canter. Again, I stayed on despite my wind pants.

"Knees up", Molly demanded. My heart sank, was she trying to kill me? I looked towards her with a puzzled look. "Knees up", she repeated. I was sure I was going to die.

I brought my knees up, depending only on my balance and seat to stay on at the canter. Somehow, I survived my lunge lesson, not only counter-clockwise, but clockwise too.

"Tomorrow, you should wear breeches"