Needless to say DH and I have anxiety about torrential rain and extreme winds ever since we built the house last year. But where mine is manageable by a simple hop, skip and a jump next door to engross myself in horsey-time, DH's becomes an anxiety filled obsession. Poor guy.
Last time we had winds like that some of our brand new, August 'sealed' shingles blew off in a huge hunk. Of course, being the OCD-ist's that we are we had to fix them right that second, mean while the 70-90km gusts threaten to flatten me right then and there. Let's not talk about my ladder holding experience and the dislocated finger...
We fix it enough to hold... get everything away, and WHAM more fly off. Oh brother...
End all, be all, everything turned out o.k when our roofer immediately came over, climbed up and patched everything for the day and returned the next day with a slew of guys to replace and repair their error.
Nevertheless, the experience leaves one a little scarred. So when those winds surged to the 70-80km gusts we were 'eckhaming' our pants a bit.
What do I do? Barn time! I go to the basement to dig out my quarter sheet and winter gear since it was freezing, all to find my quarter sheet in tatters. What the heck!
I figure mice must have gotten into my 'horse stuff' bins when we had them stored in the storage locker before moving into the house. Crap on toast! Ah well, no gusting on my parade today, hehe.
I tootle off to the barn looking like an abominable snow-woman hoping I don't terrify the horses.
I arrive to the barn to find all the horses snugly tucked into their beds for the night. I peer over the stall door and Pal gives me a look that could be interpreted as nothing else but, "You cannot be serious right now.. are you deaf!".
Drag the pony out and decide this is probably a good time to start blanketing now. I toss her rug on to make sure it still fits... well.... either the mice ate part of the strap and then sewed it back on with Martha Stewart finesse or dear pony has gotten a 6-8 inches more fleshy from the beginning of this year to now. I swear, I do ride. I know I don't have many witnesses to my 6AM mornings these past few months but honestly they happened, every day!
Moving on, we tacked up and headed out. I had a second thought that I should probably text someone to let them know I am currently alive and now venturing into the vehement sounding unknown and to come check on me if you don't hear from me in an hour.
Be brave woman! Thou, must make horsey bomb proof! You are holding your future niecy's life in your hands by means of a three-quarter inch leather strap wrapped about a now... much larger than 5 minutes ago, 1000lb animal.
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| It is not too late to turn back you know.... |
I did however get a few of these fuzzy-faced looks from her.... I am quite glad horses cannot speak English.
Most people at the barn think I am nutty for riding in these kind of conditions, (or riding with the arena sprinkler going hehe), but I think it is a great experience for both rider and horse. You get to find out what spooks your horse and how to ride it through in a controlled setting. And your horse gets that much more know-how and trust in their rider. It makes many of those other, 'Omigosh', life flashing moments seem much less dramatic. Not to mention I swear I get more of a , 'We-got-this!' attitude for the future.
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| Fuzzy nemesis.. |
No matter how much I enforced the thought of, 'holding the $50 bill to the saddle via butt-cheeks' method, it still slipped back enough to pull off one side of the cantle or another.
I did have a slight yearning for those, super annoying, trailer strap downs.
You know, the crank ones that you strap around lumber to keep it from moving....? Yeah, those!
I quickly discarded the concept when I pictured my very fashion forward riding bud's face upon first sight of me sporting a bright red flapping tie-down wrapped around my saddle. Hey it is DIY! Why you hatin'?
OH! And the shingles survived to live another day! Success! *knock on wood*.
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