This nifty map link came from Elaine. You can make your own map!
Month: January 2004 (Page 1 of 2)
My lesson time yesterday changed and I forgot about it so I had the opportunity to hang around and chat with my riding instructor about this notion of purchasing an ex-racehorse. She didn’t think it was a particularly great idea. In some ways I’m relieved because I did have a lot of doubt. Then she started talking about a horse she saw at a show recently that she didn’t like very much but I could probably buy it for $20K. Again, I don’t spend that kind of money on anything except as a down payment on real estate.
I had a great lesson on Rainy, who is often a maniac but I think I have his number these days. My riding has seemed to progressed beyond the plateau I had been on for a while, even though we took the jumps at a gallop instead of a nice, sane canter. At least I felt secure while racing around the arena and over the jumps. Another horse in the lesson ran away with his young rider, who fell off. That was scary but fortunately the girl only had the wind knocked out of her. Poor thing.
After the lesson I thought my options for horse buying were becoming too limited for my comfort. So I told my instructor that I’d continue to take jumping lessons with her but I was going to start looking for a cow horse because a) I want to ride almost every day, b) I can afford a cow horse, and c) chasing cows is fun. Maybe an ex-racehorse is a possibility for the future but I’m not convinced that I want an ex-racehorse to be the first horse I own after 13 years of non-horse ownership.
My instructor then told me about a Quarter Horse she saw yesterday. He’s a 2 1/2 year old gelding with impressive breeding but he’s not the barrel racing horse his owner wants. For one thing he’s growing too big. Well, well, well! I’m a tall, sturdy person so I need a big horse to carry me over jumps. And since he’s a QH, he might have a little cow sense so he might make a good team roping horse, which basically only needs to run straight, not mind a loop twirling over his ears, not afraid of cows, be able to turn to turn a steer and stop on short notice. So I might get my jumper and cow horse in one lovely animal instead of two. I’m hoping to find out more soon.
Yes, last night I nearly bought a horse, sight-unseen, a horse off the Santa Anita Racetrack. A horse that needs a new career because apparently it isn’t cutting it as a race horse. I was completely unprepared because the call came out of the blue. I don’t even own a halter or leadrope right now, much less a saddle and bridle.
Buying a horse under these circumstances just might be a whacky idea because ex-racehorses are crazy, right? Actually it’s only sort of a whacky idea. Occasionally, or possibly even frequently, high quality racehorses are bred to produce high quality racing offspring. Sometimes the offspring just aren’t cut out for racing but they might be cut out for another career, say jumping or dressage. Racing owners don’t want to mess with jumping or dressage horses so they cut their losses and sell a very high quality horse for nearly slaughter-house prices so they can get on with their next prospects. Because I’m a graduate student I can’t afford a high quality, fully trained horse. Because I’m sensible I may never be able to afford a high quality, fully trained horse, which often sell for $10,000 – $60,000. Or more. I’ll never spend that kind of money on anything but real estate. However, because I’m resourceful and practical, I can take a green horse with potential and possibly turn it into a high quality, fully trained horse. This is where I’m laying my bet.
In the night, when I wasn’t sleeping because I was plotting, scheming, planning, I formulated a plan of how I, a person who has not owned a horse in 13 years and only rides fairly reliable lesson horses twice a week, was going to handle a hot-tempered youngster off the track. First I need to buy a halter and lead rope, arrange for boarding and transportation to said boarding facility and talk to a trainer about working with me on this project. Once that’s settled the rest can fall into place. The horse goes on vacation for 6 to 8 weeks. He’s turned out for several hours, is groomed, and possibly handwalked. No riding or even longeing. The purpose of this is to allow him to forget he was once employed in a high stress job and he can go back to being a horse. Next he goes into full training, probably starting from the ground up, for a month. Hopefully, after that month, he’s more or less safe to ride, then he can go into partial training, where I take on more of the work, for the next month. That’s four months. After that, I’m mostly on my own.
I spent all morning researching the costs of horse vacations, boarding and training fees, mortality and medical/surgery insurance, and all the tack from the hoof pick all the way to a saddle. I have enough money stashed to do this for four months. The start-up costs are fairly tremendous as tack is not cheap. After the four months, boarding costs are allocated back to my measly graduate student salary. I think this is going to work. And now that I know I’m on the radar screen for ex-racehorse purchases, I feel better prepared. Okay, I can take that kind of a call now!
If you’ve been following along, you know that I’ve cautiously embarked on a spiritual journey just after Christmas. An email someone posted in a closed list I belong to has sparked this entry. I’m not sure where to begin so please bear with my apparent rambling while I get started.
I grew up in the Lutheran Church but left if before I was 20 for a variety reasons, including the exclusivity of the members. I always felt outside even though I should have fit the mold of Christianity: white and heterosexual (I do not mean to offend with these statements because this is NOT what I believe about Christianity). I also didn’t care for the push to “spread the word” through missions because I always felt that missions were rather pushy. If I’m to be converted into anything, it will be by example only, not because someone is preaching or ranting at me, coming to my home uninvited offering to give me a bible, or whatever the ruse is. I also felt that many Christians were not behaving in what I thought was a Christian way: love and accept everyone into the fold, welcome everyone no matter what their lifestyle. I thought I saw people behaving one way on Sunday and another way during the week. I found myself doing the same thing. When I felt like I could no longer conform to meet the approval of a judging God, I left the church.
A desire for spirituality has brought me back to the church. I’ve been empty of spirituality for several years but wishing I could do something about it. However, given my past experience I was reluctant to join another church. I came to All Saints Episcopal Church quite by accident. A happy accident. A recent newsletter (Jan 25) describes a pilot program that attempts to answer or at least meditate on the Big Questions, such as Is there a God. In the introduction the woman who wrote the article describes a situation where she’s on a flight from the east coast to the west coast. She is doing some research for a Sunday morning presentation. Her seatmate asks if she’s a Christian. No, she answers, I’m just doing research.
She said no?! She explains in the article that she’s reluctant to tell a complete stranger that she’s Christian because the religious right have coopted the term “Christian”. She goes on to say that if she were to answer the question honestly, she would have to say “Yes, I am a Christian. But it’s not what you think. Christianity is inclusive, not exclusive, that the Bible needs interpretation not literal acceptance, and that the Christian story is not the only story of faith, although it is the one that inspires, challenges, and transforms me.”
In today’s sermon Pastor Bacon talked about a fundamental question of whether God is a harsh, judgmental God who rarely loves and approves or whether God is a loving God, who lavishly dolls out love despite everything we do. The sermon built on a Corinthians reading that describes each part of the body being different from each other, such as ears and eyes and feet and elbows, but that each part is important for the whole body. What if the whole body was all ear and nothing else? This sermon washed away the notion of conformity for me. No matter how different I am, I am an important part of the body. Pastor Bacon railed against fundamentalists that preach good and evil. And that if something is determined to be evil then we can do whatever we like against it. He’s speaking directly about the Iraq War. Instead of condemning something as evil, we bestow love and generosity as we would the things we deem as good. It was a powerful sermon. The sermons and newsletters are posted on the All Saints website but is about a week behind. This church means what it says when it says, whoever you are and whereever you are in your spiritual journey, welcome and please join us, we want you with us.
For the first time today I prayed in over 20 years. I prayed for guidance on this new journey I’m taking. It was a deeply moving experience.
The color quiz is a fun little quiz I found by reading Loretta’s blog. Here are my results, which are accurate to a fault — all my faults, that is:
Existing Situation:
Readily participates in things that provide excitement or stimulation. Wants to feel exhilarated.
Stress Sources:
Resists any form of pressure from others and insists on her independence as an individual. Wants to make up her own mind without interference, to draw her own conclusions and arrive at her own decisions. Detests uniformity and mediocrity. As she wants to be regarded as one who gives authoritative opinions, she find it difficult to admit to being wrong, while at times she is reluctant to accept or understand another’s point of view.
Restrained Characteristics:
Feels she is receiving less than her share, but that she will have to conform and make the best of her situation.
Has high emotional demands and is willing to involve herself in a close relationship, but not with any great depth of feeling.
Circumstances are forcing her to compromise, to restrain her demands and hopes, and to forgo for the time being some of the things she wants.
Feels rather isolated and alone, but is too reserved to allow herself to form deep attachments. Egocentric and therefore quick to take offense.
Desired Objective:
Her need to feel more causative and to have a wider sphere of influence makes her restless and she is driven by her desires and hopes. May try to spread her activities over too wide a field.
Actual Problem:
Feels insufficiently valued in her existing situation, and is seeking different conditions in which she will have greater opportunity of demonstrating her worth.
Actual Problem 2:
Feels restricted and prevented from progressing; seeking a solution which will remove these limitations.
Lately I’ve been in such turmoil about my career choices that I’ve been going to bed and waking up with tension in my belly. Last night, however, I had a rather comforting dream: I was pregnant and about to give birth even though my “child” was not full term. It was okay because it didn’t need to be fully developed in order for it to succeed. In my dream I kept waiting for the bone-cracking birthing pains (like I would know this since I don’t have children). Once in a while I’d anticipate a contraction but nothing was really happening, except that I was very restless and so ready to have this child.
Another detail I remember about the dream is that I was in a different city than Los Angeles. It was a gray, northern, hilly city. Maybe San Francsico, maybe Portland, maybe Seattle, maybe Bellingham. I’m not sure which but that the city was not LA seemed important. I was on or near a university campus but it wasn’t UCLA. In fact, it seems like I was on the southwest side of Seattle Center, where the Space Needle is located, which would put me approximately in downtown Seattle, or maybe on Queen Anne Hill, which is slightly northwest of the Space Needle. That also seems significant. Also, a woman with me was also pregnant. She was full term and was going to have a real child, while my “child” seemed to be more like an idea, like something big and life-changing was going to happen very soon, which is why I took such comfort in the dream. I desperately need a change.
Massachusetts is the name of a horse at Traditional Equitation School at LA Equestrian Center. TEC calls all their horses in the lesson program by the name of a state. When I checked for my lesson today, I was surprised that I wasn’t assigned Washington because I’m one of the few people who get to ride Washington. He tends to spook at silly things he goes by every day in the arena and he won’t jump flowerboxes or faux brick wall jumps any more. A year ago he would but being a lesson horse in the jump program hasn’t been good for his confidence. One of the trainers started working with him to get him ready to seel but apparently she wasn’t able to “fix” him. I feel sorry for the poor horse. He’s very sweet and a lovely animal but his head got screwed up.
I’d never ridden Massachusetts before. He’s a small-ish, dark bay gelding with an unsightly goiter near where his neck meets the jaw. I asked my instructor about it; she said it didn’t seem to bother him — doesn’t hurt, doesn’t affect his breathing at all. It’s just ugly. I have to admit I had a bit of a sour attitude about him at first because of his size, because of the goiter, because he wasn’t shod on the hind hooves, which is unusual for a jumping horse, he’s small, and he doesn’t tie so I had to groom him in his stall. However, he doesn’t move around while being groomed but his back is super sensitive — I had to be careful grooming near his spine — and he acts like he’d like to nip, although he never did, maybe because I lightly elbowed him in the nose once.
Lorna told me that he’s a good jumper, willing mover but he likes to bolt when asked to canter. But she was sure I’d do fine. Swell. He really was fine. He has a fabulous, floaty trot. He did pin back his ears when I asked him to canter; I had to kick him hard to get him to go. He did act like he wanted to bolt but settled right down when I asked him to. We went over a cross rail at the posting trot then the cross rail and a vertical one step later at the canter. Massachusetts likes to veer left so I had to concentrate on staying with him (not ahead or behind) at the jump, releasing the reins so as not to bump him in the mouth, and keeping him straight. We got it right after about three times.
Lorna said I rode him well. The other rider in the class said she had a heck of a time on him so I felt pleased with my riding. My jumping skills still need work but I tend to be able to ride more difficult horses because of my previous riding. I’m glad not to be learning both skills at the same time, although I feel like I always improve my skills each time I ride. I still don’t feel as though I’m riding at the same level as when I stopped riding in 1991.
Instead of Thursdays, I am now riding on Wednesdays — this change is because of my school schedule. I hadn’t ridden Louie in quite a while. I’m not sure if he was given a little vacation during the holidays but I rode the maniac Rainy for several weeks in a row. Louie has his own version of mania but I trust him more than Rainy. You’d have to ride them both to tell the difference. However, beginning riders are allowed to ride Louie but only a few people ride Rainy.
My instructor warned me that Louie tended to be more maniacal in the upper arena where we’ve been riding (because it has lights and the lower arena does not — one must see to jump!) and she told me to direct him into a small circle if he takes off. If she would have given me this warning about Rainy, I would have been nervous from the moment I got on but I didn’t worry with Louie; he and I have always got along well.
We did our normal warm up of walk, posting trot, circle at each end of the arena in the sitting trot and in the half-seat. Since Louie is ridden by beginning riders he has a tendency to ignore leg signals unless the signal are fairly strong, sometimes emphasized with a tap from the crop. He bulges out his shoulder on the rail side, falls on his inside shoulder on the part of the circle inside the arena. Some horses just feel more comfortable next to the rail; they know exactly where to be alongside the rail. I had my leg work cut out for me trying to shape Louie into nice round circles.
After the warm up we cantered over some poles on the ground and counted strides between the poles. This is where Louie started charging ahead. I had a hard time counting and keeping him contained at the same time. At one point my instructor told me I was counting with my butt as apparently I counted every time my butt slapped the saddle! Not pretty, I assure you. I did better on the next round where I relaxed, mostly contained Louie’s enthusiasm and counted. We were getting the strides between poles almost right on.
Then we went over a series of jumps, trotting and cantering cross-rails in a pattern. This is when Louie became completely maniacal, or over-enthusiastic, and charged over the jumps like he was steeplechase horse! I definitely could not count the strides but focused my attention on getting over the jumps and containing Louie. Afterward my instructor said I did a really good job on the give and take over jumps. Even little Elizabeth told me I did well. How nice to get a compliment from your trainer and a little girl too!
Since the quarter started last Thursday I’ve been sitting in an introductory level oceanography class. Today I remembered why I didn’t take an oceanography class when I was an undergraduate: there’s a lot of math. I’m not really adverse to math but have always maintained the attitude, why take it if you can avoid it.
Oceanography is an interesting topic but I also think that if I had taken an oceanography class as an undergraduate, I probably would not be studying it right now. However, I’m a biological oceanographer, which involves fewer equations than physical oceanography. Still, this isn’t the first time I’ve wondered “what was I thinking when I signed up for this?”, meaning my entire graduate project. The answer to that question is “anything has got to be better than fire management”, my profession with the National Park Service for 10 years.
One thing I’m finally, finally learning is that I don’t necessarily have to be miserable to change or to quit. Somehow I got the message that if I wasn’t completely miserable then all should be fine. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. Well, there’s a huge gap between “just fine” and “completely miserable”. Realizing this has taken a lot of stress off me. I don’t have to stick to this. If the misery is too much then I can quit and it won’t be the end of my world, people will still like me. This is a huge step for me.
For now I’m going to keep going because I’m not entirely miserable, not by a long shot, and I do have several moments of joy throughout the day. That is enough for now.
If I had a digital camera, I might post pictures of waffles, like I’m sure Ellie would if waffling were her topic. Unfortunately a digital camera is still on my wishlist.
In my last entry I posted that I was once again excited about my graduate program. Well, that last all of one day I think. On Saturday I felt like I really wanted to go back to work again and that while I am enjoying my program right now, it’s not what my heart desires. I hope this is the last of the waffling on this topic anyway. I expect more waffling in the future as I try out different professions.
This morning for the second time I attended service at All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena. When I saw that there were baptisms scheduled for today’s service, inwardly I groaned loudly. Why, I wondered. It hearkens back to my days as a teenager or younger at Trinity Lutheran. Baptisms always made the service last at least 15 minutes longer, if not more. Time goes by very differently now that I’m an adult. Back then I was always ina hurry to get back home to do something else, maybe goof off with my friends. I didn’t want to spend a half day in church. I wasn’t relating to church as much as I related to a host of other teenage thing. This morning, once I realized this, I sat back, relaxed and enjoyed today’s service. Three babies were baptized. None of them cried at all at getting their heads wet and they were very cute.
The service ended possibly 10 minutes later than usual but I didn’t feel the same urgency to rush home. Instead I stayed for the Newcomer’s Coffee and learned how I might get more involved if I felt like it. I met a number of other newcomers as well. The leader said there were usually about 4 or 5 people every Sunday who came to this meeting but this morning there were about 20 of us, including three gay couples who wanted to find a church that welcomed their lifestyles. Three of us were recovering Lutherans — not that my experience was bad at all but I felt left behind or left out for some reason. Another was a recovering Catholic. In February the membership classes begin and I am thinking of joining. I like that I have the choice of getting as involved as I like or I can sit in the back pew and not be involved.
I have this feeling that somehow returning to church is going to help me re-discover who I am from where I left off so many years ago. I don’t understand the connection yet but feel that it’s there.