LIFE IN THE WAY
Sometimes, life just interrupts itself. After a very hectic spring preparing for then taping the Online portion of my L2 Assessment, life interrupted my horsemanship efforts. Oh, it wasn't anything major; just... stuff.

I mean, there was the sudden death of my old riding buddy. But then June flew by without so much as a visit to the barn. We had a spate of freakishly hot weather, followed by a new spate of unseasonably cool weather. It's July, but it feels like October.

I've been wrestling with my goals again. The eternal struggle for me has been horses versus music: which is the right career path for me?

Much of it has to do with age. I realize that mid-40s is young nowadays, but it still feels like the window for rock superstardom (only half kidding there) is about to close, at least for those trying to resume dormant careers like I would be. Though I'm a good age for Parelli Instructorship—just about right, matter of fact.

But the news release regarding the program changes was long to arrive.

So, I applied to graduate school. Out of state. To a music-related program that is only offered in that one state. I have no idea if I'll be accepted, or if I'll have the funds to attend if I am. But it seemed like the perfect compromise between prudence and passion, so I went for it.

Then, the revisions to the Professionals Program emerged—and for the first time ever, it looks POSSIBLE for me. It used to be that to achieve 3-Star (full instructor status, able to hold 12-person clinics) was a long, expensive process: after passing L3, the student would do 14 weeks of study (four week boot camp plus 10 weeks of training), become 1-Star; teach 1-2 students at a time for a year (no pay); then do another 10 weeks, become 2-Star, teach up to 6 at a time for a year (with pay); then do another 10 weeks to become 3-Star. The cost was prohibitive, and it was a three-year plan, with the first being without pay.

I've heard legends of instructors who sold their homes and all of their possessions to be able to afford it.

That terrified me.

Now, there are two options: one week of study to become a 1-Star, followed by the option to do a second week a year later to become a 2-Star (for a total of $15,000); or, the 12-week Extern program for $12,000 that grants 1-Star status automatically, 2-Star if the student graduates with honors and if not, the student can come back in a year, do the week-long course to become 2-star and it's already included in the tuition.

The other change is that 1-Stars can teach all three levels—four if the instructor is Official L4—but the caveat is that 1-Stars can only teach Online. 2-Stars can also teach FreeStyle. To be able to teach Liberty and Finesse requires 3-Star status. To achieve 3-Star, the student completes the Mastery program. The details of that have yet to be released.

It seems do-able now. Twelve weeks (once I pass L3), and I could be teaching Online skills to students. Maybe Online and FreeStyle. For pay. I could be an EMPLOYED PNH Instructor.

Or, for the same cost but three years of study, I could have an MFA. In music technology. And be able to work in the music industry, or teach.

So what's the question? Why is there a debate?

When I was very small, my Mother asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I stated quite boldly, "I'm going to live on a farm, and raise and train horses."

My Mother snorted in disbelief (or amusement—or both). "How are you going to do that? You haven't grown up on a farm around horses—how will you know how to train them?"

I had no answer at the time. (I now know the answer was, "through Parelli, that's how!")

She continued: "And what are you going to do for a job? Because horses are expensive, and you'll have to have a really good job to make enough money to have a horse."

Well, I couldn't answer that, either, and my dad, a college professor with a PhD, didn't make enough that we could afford ONE horse (or so they said whenever I asked, "we can't afford a horse"), so they must be goshawfully expensive, and I want to breed them, which means I'll need at least two, so... good grief, I'm going to have to be a millionaire to be able to pursue my dream.

Ah, the logic of a six-year-old.

So I looked around to see what people did for a living, and it occurred to me that entertainers, especially the ones on TV, seemed to make a LOT of money. But they spent it on silly stuff like furs, cars and jewelry. I knew I could sing, and play guitar, so I thought, "if I become a TV star, or a musician, and I save my money instead of spending it on junk, I should be able to make enough to retire in 5-10 years, then I can do my horse thing."

So, I decided then and there to become a rich and famous rock star, and retire at 40 to live on my farm and raise and train horses.

The rich, famous and star part didn't work out, though the rock musician thing carried me through my 20s and most of my 30s. And I did become a horse owner right on schedule, along with discovering Parelli.

The truth is, my dream of rock superstardom ONLY originated because I thought it would finance my REAL dream. I just got too caught up in the musical lifestyle and forgot about the horses for awhile. But the belief that music is my ticket to horse dreams is still dominant.

Either that belief needs to go so I can go after the REAL dream (including PNH Instructor training); or I need to really make it in music this time.

I think I'll go to the barn tomorrow. And maybe win the lottery. Then I can ride without the guilt shadow hovering over me (since I'm behind on board due to no job yet, hardly any savings left, and no interviews recently). Wish me luck.

Jenny Update
The newspaper finally posted service information for my friend Jenny. I've also found out some information about her passing.

The initial report is that Jenny knew she was dying. She wasn't on her way to the barn; she was on her way to the hospital. Ever stubborn, driving herself to help because she thought she was having a heart attack. The autopsy results aren't back yet, but they seem to believe that the cause of death may have been massive heart failure rather than from the crash.

In a way, I find that comforting, knowing she may have been spared the horrific part at the end. I also find it sad, to think that she had an idea this was "it". I'm not sure which is better—knowing it's coming, or not.

In about an hour, I'm headed to the visitation. It will be a gathering of old friends from the barn as well as her bereaved family. I never know what to expect at these things; but I'm an old pro now after my parents' services.

If you have a minute, spare a good thought for Jenny's family, and for her mare.

Good news coming in the days ahead, I promise.

RIDERLESS HORSE
I now know a riderless horse. Her name is Redbird. She's a beautiful chestnut QH mare, said to be Foundation. She's probably in her mid-20s by now. Because of her, I regained my pre-Parelli confidence after the fall from Cheerios that first year. Because of her owner, Jenny, I held onto my dream in the face of fear.

And as of 4:00 PM Sunday, May 3rd, Redbird is a Riderless horse.

Because Jenny was killed in a terrible car crash yesterday. It was a horrendous event. According to the news report, she hit a mailbox, a ditch, a pole, a tree, then rolled and landed overturned. It was instantaneous.

Jenny was 47 years old. Our birthdays were a few days apart. She was the first person who gravitated towards me when I joined the herd at the old barn. She was one of the first to welcome me into this brand new world of horses.

She was there for my first trail ride.

She was there for the Poker Run, when it rained. We'd tied our horses' reins to the rail after completing the ride so we could eat barbecued hamburgers before heading back. Cheerios got impatient being tied up, and gave a good yank—breaking the new leather and leaving me with the terrifying quandry (for a neophyte rider) of having to steer my horse all the way back home with only one steering device! (Another rider cobbled it together for me and Jenny and he flanked me to ensure my horse wouldn't run off with me. Ah, those pre-Savvy days...)

Jenny was there for the Big Jump, the day Cheerios carried us unexpectedly over the creek with such grace and dexterity that Jenny and the other rider sat there with their jaws to the floor. Jenny said "I wish I'd had a videocamera for that!"

Jenny was there in the days after Cheerios dumped me, encouraging me to get back on the horse as soon as I felt able. She was the one who saddled him up for me and helped me mount up on my first day back after the fall. She was the one who "rescued" us from "certain death" as he escaped at a slow walk to the mare's pasture (where the gate was open).

Jenny was there for me when the fear was so great I couldn't even lead him to the pasture by myself.

Jenny is the one who offered to temporarily trade horses with me that summer, so I could regain my confidence riding her good old mare while she "straightened out Cheerios" for me (though I know now it was me who needed straightening out). Jenny is the one who trusted me with her beloved mare enough to let me take her out solo on the trails.

Redbird was her whole life—Jenny worried that Red was getting older; she said she didn't know what she'd do if anything ever happened to Red, that she probably wouldn't be able to live without her. She worried about how she'd deal with it when "the inevitable" happened. Losing Red was probably her worst fear.

Jenny was there when so many things happened at the barn.

But something happened to our friendship when I discovered Parelli. I won't blame it all on that—there were more private issues that Jenny endured and personality conflicts that made friendship between us challenging at times. But it did seem the rift opened when I became a Parelli fanatic. Our horsemanship beliefs diverged at that point; after a time, even trail rides were uncomfortable for both of us.

Though we stopped riding together, we were still on friendly terms, and we often chatted when we met up at the barn. There was an incident with the caustic woman who later attacked me for my method of dealing with Shaveya's lameness—the same woman verbally attacked Jenny one day, right after Jenny's Dad died. I stood up to the woman on Jenny's behalf and intervened to stop the attack. It had been uncalled for—it was about nothing important, and nothing that was any of that woman's business anyway. But the day sticks out in my mind—it was probably the last time we bumped into each other at the barn, because I moved my horses not long after that.

Jenny even cared enough to skip her lunch break to appear at my Dad's funeral to give condolences. She'd met him all those times he'd accompanied me to the barn. It was a surprise—we hadn't been talking, I wasn't even aware she'd know—but she came. It meant a lot to me.

That was the last time I saw her. Almost three years ago. Two years, not quite 11 months, to be precise.

Now, I'm going to her funeral sometime this week (if they have one—hasn't been announced yet).

And the only bright spot I can find about this is that her horse outlived her, thus she never had to realize her worst fear.

Godspeed, Jenny. May you find a swift horse in Heaven and ride free.

ALLOWED TO CHANGE MY MIND
I'm allowed to change my mind. It's been an agonizing decision. But, I've decided that I AM still on the path to PNH Professional. Every time I turn away from it, my heart breaks. It's said that God can make a way where none exists... I'm choosing to have faith that He will help me get there.

That's why those widgets appear to the left of this post section. One is because I need immediate help keeping my horses safe from errant disease; the other is a savings fundraiser aimed toward my Parelli Professional training.

I have been and am still looking for a job, but even when I get one, I'm starting at zero. Saving that much money could be a challenge; someday, I'll be able to sell the house I'm living in, and likely net a good stash of cash, but I'd really rather not. This is my childhood home. It's my last connection to my dead parents. I grew up here. Though I don't imagine dying here, I'm still deeply attached to it and it seems like a heck of a sacrifice to make for a career.

But we'll cross that bridge when and if we get to it. My hope—no, my INTENTION—is that God will find another way to fund my career. So I've set my intention with the Universe and God by launching that Parelli Dreams widget to raise $100,000 by the end of the year. It will all go into an interest-bearing annuity until I'm admitted into the Professionals program.

I haven't decided what to do with it if I didn't get in, because... as they say, don't make a Plan B lest Plan B becomes THE Plan.

You know, God gave me an unmistakable sign back in 2002. And in 2001.

The day I bought Cheerios and brought him home to the barn, the first person I met was a Parelli student.

That night, a group of boarders were having a pizza/movie night in the caretaker's house. I was invited to join them. It was the one and only movie night they ever had in the five years I boarded there. The movie?

One Day With Pat Parelli.

I had no idea who he was; all I knew was, I watched what he and that little blonde gal were doing with their horses, and I said to myself, "that's what I am gonna be doing with my horse this summer", not realizing it wasn't as easy as The Black Stallion beach scene made it look.

But the clincher was 2002. May 24th, to be exact. A couple of weeks earlier, one year to the date of falling off Cheerios, injuring my back and becoming afraid, I'd finally hit Send and purchased the Level One kit (old VHS version). On May 24th, a Friday, right before Memorial Day Weekend, at precisely 4:30 PM, my boss called me into the office to let me know that 20% of the workforce was being laid off due to post-9/11 economic considerations. That was a whopping five people, me being one of them.

I wasn't upset. I qualified for unemployment—I saw it as a paid vacation for a few months while I decided whether or not to continue in my field, and the perfect opportunity to spend the summer like the kid I'd always wished I could have been—playing with my horse all summer long.

I cleaned out my space, finished my work, emailed everyone—it took a while. By the time I arrived home, it was dark. On my front porch I spotted something.

Oh, a FedEx box. Long and skinny. And another one.

It was my Level One kit. According to the label, it had been delivered to my house right around 4:30 PM—at the precise moment my boss was letting me go and freeing me forever from the graphic design world.

Now. You tell ME that wasn't a clear sign. "Here. You're meant to do this PNH thing. I'm clearing your schedule so you can focus on it. You're welcome."

I've had ups and downs, and I didn't grow up with horses which tested my self-confidence and made me doubt I could actually do this. But Neil Pye didn't grow up with them, either, and he became a 5-Star before handling the business end. And Pat didn't, either, though he started earlier than Neil or I did. Still—it's proof that one doesn't have to grow up on hroseback to be able to learn how to "train" horses (the Ultimate Way™) or ride them.

Anybody with the heart and desire, and the commitment to the program, can learn how to do this.

Even me.

L2 Audition Dry Run
Yesterday’s dry run was interesting. Cheerios and I were having an off-day, which shouldn't be surprising after the last session and the super-cool discoveries. I should have realized breakdowns precede and follow breakthroughs. I was tense. I knew that. He knew that. I kind of regressed from where we were last time. I was kind of pissed that we couldn’t “perform”, and worried that I’d never be able to finish my L2 in time to make the free deadline May 1st, and because of “how things are” with my financial life right now, I worried whether I’d ever be able to afford the fees (which haven’t been published or alluded to yet).

And my friend the videographer, whose horse experience is limited to having seen them on TV or petted one once, asked me what the plan was. I said “the thing with horses is, whenever you have a plan, they come up with a different one, so I don’t know”. Ha ha.

Yep. I know.

I should not have said, thought, or even imagined all the things I did, because...



Of course they all came true. Dang, it’s easy to manifest the stuff I don’t want. (How? I think or say it once, then forget about it. Ha ha. I bet if I could do that with “house sale”, and not think about it for a day or three, stuff would budge. Of course.)

Turns out, it’s a good thing it was a dry run, because I need to educate my friend on what to film and how to do it. Had our performance had rocked, I would not have been able to send it in because the footage wasn't usable by Audition standards. The entire horse and human did not appear in all frames.

I think she misinterpreted what I needed. She was shooting footage trying to make it “interesting”. So sometimes it’s close-up on the horse only, or on me (and my Gawd I am large, either I need to be on a diet TODAY or I need to find more fitted clothes up top) or the horse veers off frame then back in, or I’m trying to move a part that isn’t on film... When I watched it at home, I was very frustrated.

But, I realize it’s my fault. I wasn’t clear. I wasn't a good leader for her.

What I need is a continuous shot, from beginning to end, of the 10-minute audition, and at all times every single hair or toenail on both parties must be visible within the frame with a bit of air space around the borders. The camera should remain motionless, and zooming should be limited to only when necessary. At no time should there be a zoom onto one or the other, or should parts of either be excluded.

The reason is, the Parelli Faculty is looking at the relationship and communication between the horse and human, and to do that they must be able to see the entire bodies of both at once, so that they can review who did what to result in the outcome. It doesn’t need to be that close up either, because the Parelli Faculty are so well-trained to read body language that they can spot a one-degree ear swivel on a horse that is 200 yards away. In the dark. (Just kidding on the dark part.)

And as for me, uh... I need to "forget" the camera and camera person is there. I caught myself looking AT them and interacting. Well, that's not the purpose. The purpose is, the camera(wo)man does not exist; they are invisible, and it is a fly-on-the-wall secret look into the relationship with the horse and human. Nobody should be aware that there is a person holding a camcorder. If that makes sense.

I’m going to tell her "good first attempt", then describe what I need in the footage, then point her in the direction of some other audition examples and Parelli vids so she can see what it should look like.

I’m also going out a few times this week in between (I hope) job interviews and applications to play solo and work out a PLAN so I’m not trying to come up with it on the fly, testing things during filming. (Flat out: I was prepared, but unprepared. I had the music ready, batteries charged, fresh tapes, tripod, boombox, and clean clothes... I just didn’t have a plan or any rehearsal before hand and this was our third visit after a long winter. And I could use a refresher course on the 22-foot line. We both could.)

On the upside, there is some cute stuff, like Cheerios’ expression when I scritch him good, and there is proof that I can canter, and dang it, I really look like I’m finally riding better. (All I wanna do is canter all over the place.) And when I removed the 22-foot line and played at Liberty, IN AN ARENA, he stuck to me and it went really nicely. Which is L3. Which doesn’t go on the tape (I don't think). But it’s cool.

So while I don’t feel confident about passing L2 anytime in the future, LOL, I’m happy to note my progress, and I guess it’s a blessing in disguise that it DIDN’T go perfectly yesterday. And I’m grateful that I HAVE a video camera to tape it with, and that I HAVE a friend willing to stand out there doing so. And she brought carrots. (And it'll probably go better when it's done "for real", and we'll have that blue string in hand before my birthday this summer as "planned"—because I have been IN L2 since August 2003. That is LONG enough. I have let far too much "life" get in the way of my progress.)

And I got to see Cheerios interact with the foal! Wish I had that on camera. I was untacking him in the barn, and the barn manager brought in the momma horses for the night (we have mare and foal and one mare due any second now), and the foal was following momma mare, and saw Cheerios and got confused. The foal approached Cheerios, and Cheerios took on the expression of a worried parent, turned, looked at the foal, and started NICKERING at him. Hoohoo hoo. Hoohoo hoo.

I was gobsmacked. Who knew he liked babies. Luckily the barn manager got a hold of the little colt before he tried to nurse my gelding. I doubt that would have gone over well. LOL!

And the weather was beautiful, the sunset on the ride home was spectacular, and I'm very grateful that I actually have horses, and that I get to experience all of the wonderful miracles that being a part of the PNH program has given us.

HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY TO ME
Unbelievable. I've been blogging for six years as of today. This is my first blog (but not my last—I maintain quite a few on other topics). Well, good on me. No news. Raining. Love the smell of spring rain, but not the way it prevents me from being at the barn. Oh, well. I suppose that the rain will subside when I've stopped procrastinating and finished the property tax assessment complaint forms I've been avoiding for two weeks now. That's all for now... Ride on.

ENERGIZED
Yesterday was hoof trimming day. After trims, I played with Cheerios and had an amazing session Online and at Liberty in the round pen. I'm still blown away by what I experienced. There were a few "firsts" for me.

First time ever—haltered and lead in both horses at once! I figured I could do it without incident since the three of us had played at Liberty in the round pen last fall, and both seemed very laid back. Leading them both wasn't my main concern; it was dealing with the other herd members. Nobody rushed the gate, so we were good. Shaveya and Cheerios plodded in as if we do this all the time. (Maybe they do; I don't know if the barn manager brings them in one at a time or not.)

First time ever—approached Shaveya while she was lying down and she stayed down rather than get all nervous about my approach (she's RB for sure, but I haven't figured out if she's latently E or I). She let me halter her while she was laying down. She let me rub her all over while laying down. HUGE. She got up when I asked. Cheerios stood there politely waiting for us while I interacted with her.

This is beginning to be so utterly cool that I'm feelin' Level 3 already!

Yesterday was chillier than anticipated, and I almost opted to forgo horseplay after the feet were done because I had no gloves (don't like to play in gloves anyway) and the wind was nippy. I'm glad I decided what the hey, let's play for 10 minutes in the round pen online before turning him out. Ten minutes turned into a couple of hours, as it does.

Because I'm gearing up to tape my Level 2 Audition (I can hear you all saying, "it's about time, Jeanne!!!"), I wanted to focus on our Online communication. The Extreme Friendly game was broken last time. First we made strides to fixing it.

Checked out Porcupine. Working pretty good. HQ a little stickier than the FQ, which is unusual for him, usually it's the other way around. Driving fine. Yo-yo—better. Sideways—TADAAAHHH much better. He knows what I'm asking for. I'm also much more direct and forthright about asking.

I'll interrupt my progress report—while searching for a decent photo of Cheerios and I for publication in the next Savvy Times (yep! I submitted a 150-word mini-article about how Freestyle Patterns have changed our lives and it's being published), I scanned a video of us from 2006. How far we have come! First, I'm ashamed to admit I was totally boring my LBI with endless circles. Even I was getting bored watching! I found myself yelling at the video—yelling at myself, "Touch him! Touch him! You're nagging at Phase 3!!! During the part where I was riding, I was yelling, "For God's Sake, trot! Come ON!!!"

After watching, I realized how hesitant I'd been, and how much better he responded when I just ASKED. It's changed my entire perspective and technique lately, for the better. I highly recommend videotaping yourself, putting the tape away for six months, then watching it to see what you were doing before. Eye-opening.

I only asked for a couple of circles before moving on this time. Seriously. Four laps, transitions, you're good. Next?

I turned him loose and we played at Liberty. During Stick To Me, we were able to walk, trot, stop and back up in synch. That was pretty cool, so I thought, maybe I can teach him to canter with me.

I "cantered". He went with me, but trotted. He wouldn’t do it when I did it. So I sent him to canter along the perimeter. When he picked up into it, I started cantering beside him.

You should have seem the look on his face—it was comical. Like "WHAT are you DOING?" He stayed in synch, though, and when I got tired of "cantering" (out of shape, much?) and slowed to a trot, he did it with me.

Because he was so in synch with me, I had the inspiration to try an experiment Jesse did with us at one of the clinics. At the clinic, Jesse stood in the center and had us form a circle around him (without horses). He said something to the effect of "don't think about it, just do what comes naturally". He had us walk around him clockwise at a comfortable pace. None of us had any idea what this was about.

At first, Jesse stood there, head tilted down, eyes off of us (no pressure), hands folded at his waist, carrot stick in one hand, at rest. We all kept walking around the circle. (I'm trying to remember if we had our eyes closed or not. We might have formed a conga chain—it's fuzzy now.)

Jesse started slowly pivoting in the center. He wasn’t looking at us. He pivoted clockwise with us for a few rounds.

Then he changed direction and pivoted counter clockwise for a few rounds, while we continued clockwise.

When he went clockwise with us, it made me feel like I wanted to catch up to him; so I sped up. When he went the other way it felt resistant, like he was going against me. I wanted to slow down. Some people responded to it, some didn't.

The thing we were supposed to notice was how it “felt”. I noticed because I’m attuned to it—it’s the energy. He was bringing his energy up and down, and moving his energy with and against ours.

He did the same exercises but he adjusted his energy in stages. I could feel it. The pressure to go faster, slow down. It all went in time with his energy and the speed at which he spun (and he never spun fast).

Yesterday, I tried it with Cheerios. I sent him out to trot lightly on the circle. I let him establish his trot while I stood relaxing. Then I stood up slightly, and slowly began pivoting in the center without looking at him, in the same direction he was going. Simultaneously, I focused on lifting my energy just a little, in increments.

He sped up gracefully. He lifted into a beautiful slow canter.

I dropped back into relaxed pose and released pressure. He maintained the canter.

I let him go for a couple laps, then I stood straighter again, changed direction, pivoted opposite his direction, but lowered my energy, slowly, calmly, without looking AT him. I sort of pushed against his energy.

He slowed down. My mind exploded (!!!!!).

When I let out my air and just went whoosh limp like I do when riding, he stopped and stood still.

IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOL.

Can I just say that again? IT WAS SO COOL!!!!!!!

I had to play with it for awhile to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.

It wasn’t.

He was in tune with my energy. He sped up from a walk to a canter when I did so within my energy. He slammed to a stop when I suddenly reversed direction and let out all my air. He backed up when I brought up a little life and pivoted against his direction of travel. All while staying out on the circle.

It was so effing cool I was almost in tears. I didn’t have to look at him, touch him, use the stick or ANYTHING. Just shift my energy and turn with or against his direction of movement. He was compelled to respond to it.

Wow, man, I totally get it now.

Y’know, I dye beautiful yarn, but it never makes me cry. I write good songs sometimes... OK, sometimes they make me cry, but the thought of being a musician doesn’t. This horse thing... It gets to me. It’s poetry. It’s a symphony. It’s...

Beyond cool.

He got a lot of good scratches and hang time after that. I scratched the itchy spot on the crest of his mane (where he gets a dreadlock) so thoroughly I thought he was going to keel over from ecstasy (I love how they look when they get there).

I’ve been picking out music to make my audition soundtrack and getting that ready. I think we’re go for taping Online Friday (weather permitting) and maybe even Freestyle. It’s time for me to get out of Level Two. Though we still have Level Two tasks to “perfect” and I have a couple of minor fear issues to overcome (jumping), it’s obvious to ME that I am already IN Level Three for the most part. I might not be galloping or jumping three foot barrels or riding bridleless yet, but I’m past Level Two in most things. When I can do those things, and do them with excellence, I will PASS Level Three. But I don’t have to be able to do those things to be IN it.

It's so good to be back. This is where I belong.

WINTER VACAY IS OVER!
Spring has returned to NW Ohio. The crocuses have bloomed FINALLY (last year it was on the 2nd, this year the 16th), the weather is warm, the horses are shedding out in strange patches... and I finally got back to the barn to play for a change.

And it was AMAZING. Both of my horses remembered me and came right up to me for greetings and scritches. Shaveya's lameness is a bit aggravated, but she usually does that the first couple weeks of spring. They also need a trim.

Before I could play, I had to meet the latest arrival at the barn. On the 1st, the barn manager's mare foaled the most adorable little red dun colt. There is just something about that baby horse smell...

Because of the turnout configuration yesterday, we played in the round pen. I had no plan, I just wanted to see where we stood after a few weeks off. We played online first. Things were fine—good responses to Porcupine and Driving, very light but not anticipatory. Circling, good. Even Sideways—I got a few steps that looked automatic on his part—big change from last year.

Surprisingly, Extreme Friendly is broken. The moment I started thwapping, he went all RBE. I debated—do I hold onto the line during this and allow him to continue lunging himself into me; or do I release him and let him move his feet as required while allowing myself ample room to get out of his way should he explode?

I opted with Liberty. I might rethink that in the future only because I'd retain communication, but it was really a debate between communication and self-preservation and self-preservation won. I can drive him out of my space a lot better without the rope in my hands.

Hmm. Maybe I should pay attention to that. Maybe the fact that I can't communicate "Get Out Of My Space" as effectively WITH the rope in hand is something I should correct until it is as effective as driving him out of it.

He performed some very daring aerial acrobatics for me, but failed to unhinge me. (That's getting better all the time.) I've noticed the moment he sees that his attempts to upset me aren't working, he loses interest in trying, calms down, and does what he is asked to do.

This is interesting to me, and goes against the conventional RBE wisdom, which is raise your energy to match his. Had I done that, he would have jumped the gate.

Which means... maybe it wasn't RBE. Maybe it was LBE masked as RBE. Hmmm. Because matching his energy increased his—lowering mine or staying neutral diffused it. I should email an instructor about that.

Or do I have it backwards? RB, needs safety and comfort... retreat... release pressure... Hmm. I'll go rewatch the Savvy Club DVD with the four horseanalities and trailer loading to see what I had. I did the right thing, I think, but I'm not sure whether he was RB or LB.

Anyway. He settled down, the rest of it went great. I started teaching him to lead by the tail from Zone 5. We did a few S patterns. (I keep getting Falling Leaf and S patterns mixed up—one moves forward and the other backward.)

When he looked rideable, we saddled up and I got on and just sat there.

MAN it felt great to be back on the horse. Life just looks so much better from there.

Again, I had no plan, just see where we were. We walked a bit. Communication nice and light. Responding to my energy. His trot—it was smooth! Huh? Mr. Jackhammer? Mr. Pogo Stick? Smooth? I was posting to it nicely, and oddly, without even thinking about it, on the correct diagonal (when did I learn to do that?!?). Stops when I let out my energy, transitions better... and we cantered.

Know that I have never cantered in a round pen, because I once thought I needed to provide this big animal with plenty of room so he could pick up speed and plenty of room to slow him back down. Being in a 50-foot round pen is too small, plus it is, y'know, round. So I'd have to canter on a *gasp* circle.

He's not a jetliner, fer goodness' sake, he's an animal designed to whirl on a dime, bolt from predators, and slam to a stop. He doesn't need extra runway. What on earth was wrong with me?

Well, we cantered. He transitioned smoothly, it was a nice little lope, on the proper lead, and in a lovely circle. And it felt as natural as anything. It felt as though there had never been a problem before, never a threat to buck, never a nervous moment on my part.

For the first time I can remember, I felt like we were truly in harmony with one another. It's been eight years in the making.

More days like this, please.

I believe we are ready to tape our L2 auditions. For those who aren't completely in the loop, it's free until May 1, 2009. So get on it! See you there!

20 Questions
Today on Daily Parelli, we were asked:

What is your Ultimate Goal with horses? (hint: Write it down; extra-credit hint: write down answers to all of these questions)

To pass Level Four, get my black string, enter the Parelli Professionals Program, become a 4-star Horse developer and 3-Star Instructor, then raise and train good-minded horses of color (Paints, Appies, Buckskins) for the general public and run a horse rescue/rehab while educating the horse industry about the alternatives: PNH, AANHCP, Safer Grass, Perfect Pasture, Holistic therapies. (Just ignore the post where I whined that being a Parelli Pro was out of reach for me...)

Also, to get legislation passed so that horse trailers and live cargo haulers are given the same respect and consideration as school busses. Make it a serious crime to tailgate within X feet of any live cargo hauler; promote "red-light" traffic-style cameras on trailers to capture offenders; help develop safety equipment for use on trailers to assist these efforts.

Then write an autobiography about my experiences.

What is a step toward that goal that you could achieve within ten years?

Be in the PPP at the highest possible star rating I can achieve by then.

What is a step toward that goal that you could achieve within five years?

Pass Level Four. Spend more time in Ocala, ride in more clinics. Find a reining instructor and study with them.

What is a step toward that goal or a lesser goal that you could achieve within two years?

Pass Level Three Riding (both Savvys), get the green string; spend eight weeks in Ocala with my horse, ride in a couple of clinics. Get a PNH Mentor to work with. Become actively involved in horse-related legislation.

What is a step toward that goal that you could achieve within one year?

Pass Level Three at Liberty. Ride in two or three clinics and a Parelli Celebration.

What is a step toward that goal or a lesser goal that you could achieve within six months?

Pass Level Three Online. Receive blue string. Attend at least one clinic with my horse.

What is a step toward that goal that you could achieve within three months?

Pass Level Two, overcome fear of jumping barrels.

What is a step toward that goal or a lesser goal that you could achieve within one month?

Send in Level Two FreeStyle assessment submission

What is a step toward that goal that you could achieve within two weeks?

Send in Level Two Online assessment submission

What is a step toward that goal or a lesser goal that you could achieve within one week?

Get out and play with my horse a few times

What action could you take toward that goal within three days?

Get out to the barn tomorrow, Monday and/or Tuesday (and get on the AbLounge)! Pick out music to play to.

What action could you take toward that goal tomorrow?

Go to the barn! Play! Watch DVDs and catch up on the latest SC stuff. Call my friend to see if she's available to man the camera.

What action could you take toward that goal today?

Watch some DVDs to fire up my motivation; put my Boinks in the laundry so they'll be ready for tomorrow; get a good night's sleep. Start thinking about the soundtrack, music that means something to me.

What action could you take toward that goal right now?

Get the H off the computer and go watch SC DVDs. Make sure the batteries in the video camera are charged.

What information could you acquire that would improve your chances of achieving your goal?

Reread the new levels stuff so I have a better idea of how to prepare; watch YouTube vids of others' assessments to get ideas.

What's stopping you?

Obligations around the house. The need to find a job for income. Money issues, like how'm I gonna pay board next month, how'm I gonna pay for the clinic in June, how'm I gonna eat? How'm I gonna be able to afford the PPP program or the eight weeks in Ocala in two years?

Really?

Uhhh... well... yes and no. The house can be cleaned any old day. I have money in the estate and the other house that's for sale, when they sell, no need for a job for awhile... I've got money today, I could get more tomorrow, maybe I could get loans, maybe by the time I'm ready to go to Ocala I'll be ready to sell this house...

Do you see how easy it is to make a plan?

Yes.

Now, here's the toughest question of all: Once you have a plan... are you willing to change it if you need to?

Yes. It's already changed from my original plan four years ago.

Did you count to see if there were actually 20 questions?

Didn't have to. The person whose blog sent me to this link already did it for me. ;-)

Obamicon Me
It was -6 yesterday. My horses are on winter vacation. Therefore, this is merely a fun post in honor of our 44th President's Inauguration this week:



You can make one, too.

See you in the spring...

HAPPY 2009!
It just dawned on me—OMG, Cheerios is going to be 12 years old in March! Good Lord. Where does the time go? He was just a four-year-old snotty upstart when I bought him in 2001. We've come so far. I've been blessed to enjoy his company and all that he has taught me.

Shaveya turns 11. My horses, they are not babies anymore...

Not much happening with winter being here. The weather alternates from 25 below wind chills and cars with doors frozen shut, to a week later giving us a day in the 70s. Ohio weather—you don't like it? Wait a minute... but the year is new, we're on the upswing of the clock (days are growing longer now), and spring is headed our way. Only a few weeks from now, we'll be polishing the saddles, currying out the winter hair, and hitting the trails and paddocks again. Life will be in full swing.

Until then, we must endure. :-)

LIFELONG STUDENT
That'll be me. I'll always be a student of Parelli, but my dreams of becoming a paid professional? I think that's over now. Parelli just released the prospectus for the new Apprenticeship program, including pricing. My first impression is, unattainable unless I win the lottery. I know—that goes against my belief in the LOA and that with God all things are possible, but... let's be realistic. If one must become a Protégé before they qualify for 4-Star status and higher, and the cost to be a Protégé is $50,000 per year for TWO years, which is $100,000, which is more than a college education...

It's out of reach for me. I know... they say you don't need to see the whole staircase, just the first step, but... that's $100,000 on top of the previous levels, plus the mandatory two weeks at Ocala courses, plus travel, plus clinics up to Level Two...

It's for the most dedicated of students. I'm dedicated, but honestly? I'm not sure I'm dedicated to the level where I'd be willing to sell my house and a few body parts and live off of Ramen until I'm 60 in order to do that.

But to those who are, I admire you, I commend you, and I wish you every bit of luck you will ever need. And I hope you learn well, because you'll likely have me and my horse in a clinic of yours one day.

GOD BLESS MADELEINE PICKENS
Read this blog here. No further explanation needed. Mrs. Pickens, you are a wonderful human being. Thank you.

FREE
I went out to the barn—surprising how you think, "Oh, I only have two hours of daylight left, is it worth going?" Then you get there, and it’s like time... slows down. Expands. It stretches to accommodate all you want to do so you cram in six hours’ worth of stuff in two. I don’t know HOW that happens—it’s like the barn is in a reverse Bermuda Triangle. I love it. We had fun today. We established leadership in the pasture then went and got saddled up.

We did some of our patterns for a bit, then I dropped the reins around the saddle horn,

and let him go where he wanted to go, at whatever speed he wanted—passenger lesson—and for the first time, no fear. I wasn’t worried he might bolt because I knew I could ride it and I knew he’d listen if I said hey buddy slow down.

So... I rode with him, and... I allowed him to canter... and I threw my hands up in the air like I was on a roller coaster going down the first hill, and...

I rode it. And it was amazing. I felt... free. Free in a way I've never felt on a horse before. Now I understand. Now I know why it brings tears to my eyes to watch the more accomplished PNH graduates riding their horses in perfect harmony, bareback and bridleless—it's because some part of me knew what that freedom feels like, and yearns to have it for myself.

Sure, he was saddled, and I had the reins right there within reach in case I needed them, but seven years ago, the idea that one day I might be able to ride any horse, let alone Cheerios, bareback and bridleless (and stay alive) seemed unimaginable.

Today, we moved one step closer. It’s within reach. That I can canter him without holding onto ANYTHING... blows my mind. This might have been a tough year financially and such, but it’s been amazing horse-wise. He looks different, too. Softer. Friendlier. He looks more like Wildflower to me (expression, countenance) than the snorty devil horse.

I know... it’s really me that’s changed. But he’s changed, because of it.

I'd end on that note, but I have to post that after the clinic, life distracted me for a couple weeks to take care of estate business (good), and I just got out to the barn yesterday and today; and we've added BowTie to our repertoire. The oddest thing is, all of a sudden, since the clinic, I feel like I can really RIDE him now. His transitions are smoother, his gaits are slower, he's more relaxed, his trot—I keep looking around for the alien space ship that must've sucked up my horse and replaced him with this one because the jackhammer on a pogo stick trot is GONE! I dunno.

Something major has changed and it's wonderful. I hate to say it, but... could shortening my stirrups one hole really have made that much difference? If so, then, great. Thanks, Jesse, for fixing that.

BowTie went really well! He figured out really fast to change leads and canter after circling. We're doing simple lead changes already! Whoo-hoo!

I can't wait til spring. (Really. I can't. So I guess I'll have to keep riding through winter.) Have I mentioned that I love my horse? :-D

REMINDS ME OF MY HORSE
I wonder why. :-)

Home from the PNH Clinic
The clinic with PNH 2-Star Endorsed Instructor Jesse Peters last weekend in Columbus, MI, was AMAZING. I had some enormous insights about the holes in myself that needed improvement and I thank my horse for pointing them out so loudly, LOL! My horse had a megaphone with him, and on Day One I returned to the hotel feeling utterly incompetent because of it. (That was what my brain was telling me, despite the positive feedback I got from Jesse.)

Day Two was far better after a night of rumination and relaxation. Having time to dwell on the insights prepared me, and the simulations we did prior to playing with our horses helped immensely.

I'll write up the details later. At present, it's 4 AM. I'm only awake because I slept late, then had another migraine (second in two days, had one Friday after Clinic Day One) which resulted in a nap, then... well, that'll do it. More later...

Hey, I said I'd post the details later...

MUCH BETTER TODAY
Yesterday went much better than the previous two sessions. Although he gave me the butt when I went to collect him and Shaveya for feet trims, he quickly sighed and allowed me to halter him when he realized I wasn't going away anytime soon.

After trimming, I took him to the round pen for a bit of Liberty. No goals, no agenda—just see what happens. My only "goal" was to be far more polite, watch for his try, reward more, be softer, and if I get what I want, stop there—don't push for more.

The improvements were startling. (More after the jump.)

I played all 7 games with him at Liberty. He is still turning to the right when I yo-yo him back. I tried to remember what I'd viewed on a L2 or Savvy Club DVD (been watching a lot lately) from teaching Sideways—fix each part separately. So, I can't back him up AND correct position. Better to get him into position and ask for the yo-yo. If he starts to angle, stop, reposition, wait. Try again. Did that a few times and it began to click.

The segment I was watching in my head was Linda teaching Sideways Mounted without a fence. Horses will try to go forward, backward, left, right—anything but Sideways. So it's a case of "not there, not there, not there—there" in response to a step forward, a step back, a step turned—sideways.

I used this method all day and my goodness. Success is back. OK, so my problem is sometimes I get distracted by life or my own brain and get too quick, too pushy, too impatient. Got it. Slow down, be more step-by-step, be patient.

Big successes:

• my riding felt better
• he did Sideways Mounted without a fence
• Fig 8's Mounted are better
• transitions are better

I was being more precise in asking for transitions to the point where I wanted to see if he was listening to me or just reacting. I boiled it down to things like walk one step, stop, backup one step, stop, walk three, stop, trot five, stop, back up two. At first he was just on auto-pilot but pretty soon he was waiting to see what I wanted. Cool.

Worked on picking up leads. I practiced at the walk taking away one lead by bending, positioning for the next. Then at the trot. Then just getting the lead—not changing yet. Then when that was working okay, I tried Bowtie at the trot. Just bend to a walk, change direction, resume. That got to be automatic for him so we stopped.

Lots of FTR, a quick Cloverleaf, some random riding and PPL and a lot of sitting and meditating. It was a good day.

IT'S BECOMING A TREND
Euchh. Another bad horse day, the kind where you wonder, "can I really do this or am I just kidding myself?" To be fair, it's been a tough weekend due to reaching the two-year mark on Mother's death, so... maybe now that it's over (today's the day), I can finally move on, out of my mourning period and into a life of my choosing.

That life includes plenty of happy horse days, great friends, and a multimillion-dollar bank account.

I suppose two out of three ain't bad. ;-)

(Nothing after the break, so don't bother looking.)

MOTHER SAID THERE'D BE DAYS LIKE THESE
Progressing exponentially. Relationship rockin'. Things developing beautifully.

And then you have a day like Friday, and you wonder why the heck you even bother.

Yep, I had one of those days, where things regress, where old issues resurface, where you feel frustrated and revert to predator, when you get extremely sore from trying to deliver a truly effective Phase 4 Yo-Yo when someone insists on crowding you but he responds with the bat of an eye and "is that all ya got?", when you wind up crying because it's not working, crying because the sunset is SOOOO heartbreakingly beautiful and that's capitalized by viewing it from the back of a horse, crying because you realize it's been exactly 104 weeks to the date (two years in weeks) since you last saw your Mother alive and coherent and you then realize that you haven't been present at all during this session, you've been back in ICU watching your Mother decline...

Yep. It was one of those days.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

FEELIN' A BIT LEVEL THREE
This will be a quick post (I hope) because I want to head out to the barn again. Two days in a row, woot! I've been managing every other day, which is GREAT for my riding and play. My riding is the thing that has needed the most focus.

I dug out my Savvy Club DVD collection for inspiration since September's hadn't shown up yet (their new mailing system, uh...) and found, can you believe it, one that was UNOPENED. The shame! (Well, it was one from my Mom's last few weeks of life, so, it's forgiveable. PNH was the last thing on my mind.) Haven't watched it yet because I have about 15 to rewatch dealing with lead changes and Finesse.

One of them was from Savvy Conference. Linda was demonstrating how to swing the shoulders over along the rail, as prep for lead changes and Finesse. It's kind of a Sideways movement. I watched, paid careful attention, and...

...yesterday, after playing at Liberty in the round pen and doing a little FTR in the hackamore to warm up and make sure he was listening, I put on the bridle for a little Finesse. (I tried to bridle from the saddle, but that was NOT working. To Cheerios' credit, he behaved admirably once the hackamore came off. He didn't take off and he listened to my requests from the savvy string tied around his neck.)

Well, we tried the Shoulders In swing thing.

IT WORKED!

I let him drift from the rail, then I moved my shoulders over and barely guided him with the direct/suspension rein, and OMG HE DID IT. Perfectly. Blow me away. We played with that at the walk, then the trot, then I spied a cone and decided to attempt the next exercise she'd done on the DVD, which is to trot diagonally toward the cone using the Shoulders In to achieve a forward/sideways at the same time feel. I am not a Dressage Rider, so forgive me for not yet knowing what this is called—half pass, maybe?

Anyway... that worked, too! It's like Cheerios has been waiting for ME to catch up to all of the amazing things HE can do, and he's excited to show me.

Oh, and Tuesday?

We jumped.

You read that right. Just a low jump, nothing more than two beams crossed over a pair of barrels on their sides, but it was a jump, it was on purpose, and it felt great.

We seem to be progressing exponentially all of a sudden. I'm feeling like we're in L3 in some spots. So, the time has come. I am headed to the L2 clinic October 10th, then I'm taping my L2 October 15th. I'm sending it in and assessing before 2009 so that I can keep moving forward. It's OK if I begin to assess L3 next year in savvies and find I'm still L2 in some. I'll have my blue string, and we'll be on our way. One string closer to Parelli Professional Time.

OK, I'm off to the barn...

OH—Shaveya is coming to me willingly again. I might play with her a little today.