Sincere Appreciation

Last night while shopping, an older gentleman I've never met, smiled at me and said "Hi". He had kind eyes, eyes that reminded me of my grandfather, so I smiled back. This same gentleman stood in front of me in line at the checkout and when the total rang up on his milk and few other food items, he started counting out change. Everyone in the line behind me seemed to grumble. As he was counting, he realized he was 2 cents short. The cashier wouldn't let him take his items without paying the last 2 cents. The entire line grumbled. Automatically, I handed the man 2 cents and when he protested, I just smiled and told him he was doing me a favor by taking it, I have too many pennies weighing me down. He gave me the most sincere thank you and smile that I've ever received. It was nice to be appreciated. I have been in a good mood since and for now I'm going to think of the older gentleman as my guardian angel. Maybe he knew I needed appreciation, but knew I wouldn't accept it unless it was deserved. Not that giving someone a couple cents is some great deed, but it was just enough to help him out and in turn make my day better. Kind older gentleman, where ever you may be, you really did help me by taking those 2 pennies. More then you'll ever know.

5 Years Ago

January 16th has come and gone. This year I didn't even notice. Another year has passed, making it 5 years ago that I cradled Mister's head in my lap for hours, when he couldn't stand, waiting for the vet to euthanize him.

This year I didn't cry. I wrote no sad stories. I didn't feel my heart break all over again. That makes me feel guilty. How could I forget? How could I not wonder what life would be like had he lived? How could I not shed a single tear?

Mister was my world, my rock, my horse. When life seemed to be kicking my butt, he was there to carry me away. He understood me when no one else did. He was there when no one else was. He kept my secrets and inspired my dreams.

It sounds so silly to give so much credit to a horse. Most likely all he ever really knew was that I had carrots in my pocket and if I was crying that meant that he would have to get them himself or wait forever listening to me babble away and cry. Horses don't understand our words or why we are feeling the way we are feeling. They understand that a show of anger means to stay clear, that crying delays the treat giving, and that a laugh is a good thing. They get this from experience and body language. There is a human need to project ourselves onto our horses and believe that they have human qualities. It's a comforting thought that they would understand every word and yet, still keep all our secrets.

I once read somewhere that every horse person has a once in a lifetime horse. I believe Mister was mine. Mister was like an extension of myself and when he died, I felt like a part of me died with him. A part of me was just ripped away and sent on to heaven with him. It's a part of me that I'd like to have back. It was the part of me that knew everything would always be OK; the part of me that knew it was OK to dream, that nothing was impossible, and that a two-minute gallop could leave all my sadness and frustrations in the dust. I guess what I really lost with my horse was my connection to childhood, 5 years ago on January 16th... Rest in peace my sweet boy. I love and miss you daily, even if I don't always show it. You are always in the back of my mind.

Old Stories/Articles

I've started digging up some old articles and short stories from quite sometime ago. Some are posts from my old blogs that I decided to keep... Anyways, I hope that my one follower and anyone that might stumble across my abandoned blog enjoys them. :) I will try to post some new short stories soon.

My Pet Peeve- "Rescuing" Standardbreds From The Track (2008)

I am the daughter of a harness horse trainer. I have also been taking Standardbreds from the track and retraining them under saddle since I was 8 years old. My first riding horses were Standardbreds, I learned to jog harness horses, brush them, and bathe them. My passion for horses started with the harness horse and harness racing.

Someone saying that they rescued a Standardbred from the racetrack is my biggest pet peeve, because it is not true for harness horses as a whole. Not all Standardbreds are rescued from the racetrack. Rescue by definition means "to free or deliver from confinement, violence, danger, or evil".

Most of these harness horses receive better care than your average show horse. They have a set schedule for meals, stall cleaning, pasture time, and training. They get one day off a week. They are fully rubbed down after workouts; some have chiropractic, laser treatments, and massage appointments. Most of these harness horses get the best twice-yearly veterinary care and some of the most advanced care in veterinary science in the case of an injury or sickness. They get hoof trims every 6 weeks, they receive joint supplements, vitamins, regular worming, and sometimes other supplements based on the horse. Most have their own blankets, coolers, leg wraps, and boots. These horses are kept fit, taking an average of 3 months to get them in top shape before even going to their first race of the year after a short vacation.

Racing is their job and MANY enjoy it. To say that you rescued your Standardbred off the track is as ridiculous as saying you rescued a horse from the dressage ring or western pleasure. There are bad apples in every discipline, but for the most part the harness horse trainers are good horse-loving people that you do not have to rescue horses from. Over 90% of these harness horses are well taken care of year round.

You may have adopted them off the track, but they are not a rescue, unless you or someone else has stepped in to save them from abuse, neglect, or a greater evil. When you refer to every Standardbred as a rescue, it is an insult to every harness horse owner and trainer who take excellent care of their horses. Real harness horse trainers do take excellent care of their horses, no exceptions.

The Standardbred That Stands Beneath Me Part II: He's PrimeOfYourLife (2008)

I think it was a Wednesday eight years ago, when a big fancy rig pulled into our farm, with not even a days notice. Arriving from New York, Prime was spotless stepping off the trailer, beautiful shiny coat, big sad brown eyes. The former trainer shipped him wearing no wraps and a raggedy nylon halter. He was a big boy, quiet, with little personality, and no real need for contact with people. He never made a sound, didn't nicker, whinny, bang walls, or doors, or buckets at feeding time. He did everything like a robot, on a routine, and he had absolutely NO idea what treats were.

It wasn't until Saturday night, that I took notice of Prime having any personality at all. I had a show the next day with Mister and was making a big fuss over him. I had fed and watered all the horses myself that night, as my dad and grandmother were racing. Before starting to braid up my show horse, Mister, I made the decision to move him to his stall, directly across from Prime. I was braiding him up in his stall when I looked across and saw Prime peeking over his stall door and across the isle way at us. I was talking to Mister and Prime's ears were moving to catch every word I said. Every time I gave Mister another treat, Prime's bottom lip started flipping, like he was taking a treat too. I walked over and offered him a treat, but he wouldn't take it and went to the back corner of his stall. I went back to Mister's stall, stood up on a bucket, and kept on braiding Mister's mane. Prime moved back to his door, so he could get a better view of what I was doing to my horse. What a silly horse I thought.

The next morning bright and early wearing riding clothes under wind pants and a sweat shirt, I headed out to the barn to make some last finishing touches on Mister before leaving for the show. I walked into the barn and as I was pulling Mister out on cross ties, my father said, "You forgot to feed the new horse last night. You forgot his grain and his hay." Prime had never made a sound, never banged his bucket, all he did was flip his lip. Prime hadn't wanted a treat, he was asking me to feed him! I felt awful and as a habit grabbed some treats to go and apologize. I walked into Prime's stall, he was standing quietly in his corner as he had done since he got here, and I said "I'm sorry" and offered the treats. Just then Prime looked at me with his big sad brown eyes, and gently took his first treats.

Later on, a qualifier had been scheduled for Prime and the young colt we had in training. My father asked me to help him for the day and go to the track. Barely 13 years old, I unloaded the 16.2 hand gelding and led him to his stall in the paddock area. With me he was quiet as can be.

I helped lug water and get Prime's racing gear together. He was harnessed and hitched and the hired driver hopped into the cart. They forgot his head number as they headed out to the track. He was hell on four legs, wound up beyond recognition of the quiet horse I handled earlier. He attempted to take off pacing full throttle with the driver during the short warm up before the qualifier. The driver had all he could do to keep Prime somewhat under control.

The qualifier was ready to go and Prime was ready to go, when over the speakers came the request for Prime's trainer to put his head number on. The driver turned Prime around and headed the jogging direction. Prime came back around towards the paddock area ready to go and ticked off about the change of direction. My dad ran out to put his number on and barely had it on when Prime acted up and slammed him into the outer wall of the race track. People were now under the impression that Prime was a complete nut.

Turning him back around to the racing direction, the driver held on tight and had all he could do to keep Prime from taking off with him. Prime went on to win his qualifier and didn't want to stop to come back in. My father led him in from the track and put him on cross ties. Then 13 year old, 90-something pound me, took over helping to unharness and bath him, and then walked him out around the paddock area. When it was time to go, I led him out and helped load him. Prime was a little bit of a head case on the track then, but he never once over stepped his boundaries off the track.

Years later, it was August 2005 when Prime had a few slow races, and I was told to throw a saddle on him. I bridled Prime, led him to a paddock, and jumped on him bareback. I let him sit there for a minute getting used to my legs and having weight on his back. He just turned his head and looked at me, "What are you doing up there?". Then I asked for a walk and we walked around a bit. He did well, so I went in, grabbed my saddle, and saddled him up. I asked for a trot and got a pace, but I took it. Then my dad walked up, opened the gate, and told me to take him out on the track. I did. I walked and paced him around the track, with a few steps of trot. He was quiet and trustworthy right from the beginning.

Over the next week I rode him every day. He learned the difference between the pace and the trot, and that I wanted him to trot under saddle. He learned to walk and trot ground poles, and went for a ride or two with my sister riding Mister. Not even a week after he'd been started under saddle, my then 10 year old sister with limited horse experience, wanted to show. I already had a student that was showing Mister that day in the same classes, so sent Kayleigh with Prime and they placed in the top 5 in every class they entered. Prime was a champ, acted as if he'd been shown every day of his life. A few days later, Prime was entered to race at Windsor Fair and his newly started under saddle career also launched a winning streak racing.

The following year, Prime would be started in riding lessons and later he would be the one to fill the very big shoes left after Mister's passing. Prime has given many children their first rides, taken children to their first shows, and has been the star for children who had never before been able to say they knew a race horse in the local races. He's talented, loyal, honest, and trustworthy. He's PrimeOfYourLife.

The Standardbred That Stands Beneath Me Part I:The Graceful Art Of Bareback Riding (2008)

I was struggling not to scream "OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!" and fall off clutching my inner thighs. That's what I was picturing; me, ungracefully falling off in a heap, clutching my inner thighs and wailing like a big baby, while Prime stood over me in complete disgust and amusement as he ruffled my hair and rolled me around like Alaric's big blue ball. Oh, what an embarrassment!!!

So, I was practicing the art of graceful bareback riding. Ya, right! I used to be a talented bareback rider. Walk, trot, canter, gallop, jumping, barrel racing, trail riding, bucking, rearing, you name it I rode it and I stayed on. I used to be able to post bareback, get into a jumping position and hold it as if I wasn't riding bareback at all. I had a great case of "velcro butt", except I didn't only stay on, I made it look easy and graceful. Unfortunately, not anymore!!!

Yesterday, I decided that I would be lazy while tacking up Prime and headed out with just his support boots and a bridle. I hadn't ridden bareback in at least a year. The old fool didn't know what to think when I hopped on him with no saddle and asked him to trot. He actually halted and turned his head around as if to say "Are you sure?". "Of course I'm sure" I mumbled under my breath, "I used to do this all the time". So off he trotted being extra cautious and slow as I just about slid off the left side of him at the corner of the ring. I caught myself on his whithers and giggling with embarrassment centered myself and corrected my legs and riding position.

Off we went again, and I tried to post. I could still post without stirrups, but man, the pain I was feeling in my legs is like nothing I've ever felt before. I was struggling not to scream "OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!" and fall off clutching my inner thighs.

Though I pictured it, it didn't happen. I stayed on, I kept my posting trot, the pain in my thighs went away, riding bareback started to feel familiar again. I sat down, gave a scoop and Prime picked up a beautiful canter down the long side of the ring. One, Two, Three, Four strides, hit the corner and into a pace. Through the second corner and back into a canter down the other long side, except this time it was a diagonal, 4-beated canter that only a pacer can manage. Back to the posting trot, sit, scoop, and there we had the beautiful canter again.

A little more work on the canter and I was really feeling my legs and my stomach muscles. From Prime's back I opened the arena gate and we headed out for a short relaxing walk around the track before dinner. During our "cool down" ride, I began to think about the Standardbred that stood below me.

My Heels Pop Up. So What's The Big Deal? (2008)

Something I wrote back in 2008...

"Heels Down." I say it in every lesson, with every rider. I even say it to myself some rides. People often wonder why having your heels down is so important. Why do I get after these riders about their heels so much? Their heels are up, so what?

The ideal riding position is sitting with your ear, shoulder, hip and heel in a perfect vertical line. The stirrup should be placed at the ball of your foot just behind the little toe at the 5th metartarsal phyalgial joint. You should feel a slight pressure at your ankle with your heel down, you should not feel pain. Forcing your heel down at a severe angle, or letting it float up with most of your weight on the ball of your foot or your toe will throw off your riding position, your center of balance, and effect your general riding ability. Letting your weight fall down into your heels allows you to stay relaxed and lets your leg sit against your horse more comfortably, effectively and securely.

Also consider the fact that allowing your toe to point down, sets your foot in the perfect position to slip through the stirrup. When the foot slips through the stirrup, a rider will lose their balance and could possibly fall. Now, if you are not using safety stirrups your foot could become stuck and if you were to fall, you risk being dragged.

I would also like to point out that it is also now an FEI rule that competing rider must have their heels down.

Having your heels down is more than just looking pretty, it is a safety issue. Having your heels down helps set a proper riding position and is the foundation of what keeps you on!

Inexperienced riders often have difficulty keeping their heels down while riding because this is not a movement that occurs naturally in other activities. BUT it is something you can practice at home on a 2 inch board, standing with your legs apart and knees slightly bent as if you are riding. This helps train your muscles and tendons for proper riding and keeping heels down. Give it a try in between lessons!

This Is What It Is & I Appreciate My One Follower :)

I have seriously neglected my blog and in the process have lost nearly all of my followers. At the start, my blog was "Diary of a Mad Horse Woman" and I had well over 30 followers; who laughed, cheered, cried, and yelled with me. I had the comments to prove it and a few online stalkers too!

Following my filing for divorce, I deleted my original blog and started "The Second Waffle" blog and some of my followers joined me again. A year later, I deleted it, wanting to forget all that I'd been through. It makes it slightly harder to start over with everything written out in cyber space.

A few months later, I decided to take a different approach with my blogging and started "The Second Waffle" blog back up, mostly just posting short stories and articles I've written. See the "Waffle Theory" isn't only about moving on, it is about accepting the imperfect waffle; throwing butter and syrup on it and enjoying every bite.

Unfortunately, many don't want to read non-snarky, non-crazy, drama free writing. Let's face it, that's why you log on to read blogs. Everyone likes drama and twists and turns and sick ex-husbands. They want to read my blog and go "and I thought my life was bad". Well, unfortunately for you folks, I have removed all negative influences in my life and things are going good now and when they're not going good, I no longer have the urge to post it publically (I have my non-public diary for vent sessions). For those of you who do read my blog and still enjoy it, I thank you for sticking with me. I hope to share more stories, thoughts, and opinions. I look forward to your imput.