Washougal, Washington and the Day I Made My Responsible Partner Play Work Hooky.

I should explain my partner/ fiancee/ girlfriend.

I (and she) hate the term fiancee, though we are engaged, and wobble back and forth lamely between calling her my partner and my girlfriend. She is just my Roo (my nickname for her, her nickname for me). Anyway, she is in her 30's, has her JD from a law school on the east coast, and I am madly in love with her. She is my favorite person to hang out with, and my best friend. Our anniversary is the day after her birthday, November 16th, and it'll be two years (don't worry, the engagement was fairly recent -- I ain't no crazy homosexual).

Usually Jen is responsible, but she is also kind of lazy like me. We both agree that there is something particular about our generation that allows us to be perfectly fine not adhering to a schedule or caring about when work is, and neither of us give a crap about working. Work work blah blah. That's not to say we don't love our jobs or HATE showing up, but we're both just kind of...flexy about it. She is working for this crazy lawyer as his paralegal and her job is awesome. She can show up any time between 9am and 10:30am and it's fine, her boss is a pain pill addict and a total weirdo, and supachill about her schedule and stuff.

SOOOO yesterday I had nothing to do, and I agreed to go with her to the courts before she went to the office to "help" her work. Halfway downtown, I asked to stop for coffee, and then asked for a breakfast sandwich exclaiming my love and need for eggs, and Jen suggested we go to brunch. This was around 10am or so, and we went to the Cup and Saucer on Denver for breakfast. Delicious. We know our server and she kept asking me if my name was Shelly. NOPE, NOT SHELLY. Then we went downtown to the court house and broke the computer that helps search files, went down to the file room in the basement, and walked up and down a million flights of stairs. Then we went to Oregon City to the courts there, and ran into some guy we had previously ran into earlier at the Multnomah court, and he helped us learn secrets about the file search system to the dismay of the file room clerk. It was around 2:00pm when we decided to play hooky and go to the river, so we drove to the Washougal.

It was 92 degrees yesterday and SO FUN. We brought the dog, Lucy, and swam and swam and swam. We took some pictures, swam more, talked about fishing there later this week, and then Jen dropped her phone in the river. It has been rice bagged and is kinda working, but c'est la vie. Yesterday was awesome.

Here I am in the river before Jen dropped her phone:

Here is Jen in the river:

Gotta remember that my life is good, and my unemployed behind is, in fact, awesome. :)

Horses That Shaped My Riding Part Two

We left off with Tyke. After Tyke, I moved to Seattle, WA and started working at a reining barn run by these two crazy Hispanic dudes and their families. They specialized in reiners and cutters, and had a pretty nice facility, complete with sheep and goats that they sold for meat. I found this place by emailing a woman who had posted on craigslist needing someone to work her APHA gelding, so I politely obliged and ended up working at this barn and riding her gelding on top of that. He was very gentle and had super manners and that ended up working out for a long time for both of us. The horse's name was Cody, and I super loved him.

I rode other horses in the Seattle area, but nothing really sticks out to me. I eventually moved to Portland, and met the horse I would ride for three years running. His name was Matrix and he was a total shit head, but I loved him like he was mine. For all intensive purposes he was. His owner, who is now one of my closest friends, was a workaholic and didn't have time to get out and ride her horse, so I went out for her. He was a scrawny little appendix quarter horse and he acted like a crazy 2 year old TB. He spooked at everything, was a total punk on the ground, dumped me for no reason, and legitimately complained with his whole body if he had to do something he didn't want to. He threw me more times than I can count, spooked at everything in the whole world, and I gave him time and consistency. Eventually one day his brain just clicked and he turned into a completely different animal. Then Grace lost her job and sold Matrix to a wonderful lady named Anne who lives in San Diego. We actually got to ride him when we went to California together and it was so sad and good to see him. Matrix was the horse that changed my whole life, and I miss him terribly, but knowing he has a good home is so awesome.

Here we are together:

After Matrix, I rode a slew of horses for other people and spent a couple of days riding with this woman in Vancouver, WA who had a crazy Tennessee Walker mare, a calm TW gelding, and a one year old pain in the ass medicine hat paint colt that she won in a raffle. Of course, the paint gelding was deaf since he was free (I feel like it always goes that way), and of course I love the crippled and broken, so naturally I loved him immediately. His name was Gage and he was so responsive and smart. He was almost two and I spent some time working with him in the round pen using hand signals, and was totally shocked when he took to them very quickly. I wish I had bought him from her (she was debating selling him). He would have made a great pleasure horse. He was deaf, for crying out loud!!

I also rode a 17.2 hand TB/ Appy gelding named Tango for a girl I met on craigslist, and he changed my riding a lot, too. He was HUGE and I hadn't ridden for almost a year, so naturally he terrified me. We spent a lot of time walking and trotting, and eventually Tango helped me get my confidence back, and I am so lucky I got to spend time with him and his mom. If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten my confidence back for a long, long time.

After Tango, I got a job working for a lady who was the CEO of a major natural foods chain riding her horses for her. I eventually had to sell all but one, and got SUPER attached to all of them as time went on. There were four of them when I started, and they all challenged me in some way.

The first challenge was Oreo, the pony. I couldn't really ride her because I am 5'10" and am not a delicate flower, so I called my friend Grace (who had Matrix) to come out and help me. My boss bought Oreo as her riding pony, and didn't have time to ride much, so she was the first horse we were asked to sell. Oreo was amazing. She was a Quarter Paint Pony, and she was fearless, responsive and SMART. We could take her anywhere, ride her in/ on/ over anything, and she was ready to go. She was 13 or so hands, and she was going to be awesome. We managed to get Oreo to balance herself out, and started doing some basic reining with her. She was amazing. Grace wanted Oreo for herself, but we didn't have the money. It was too bad, really. We ended up selling her to a 6 year old girl and her family, only to have them email me a month later and ask if we would buy her back because they couldn't afford to keep her. I wonder where Oreo ended up.

I DID sit on Oreo before we sold her on a dare. Nobody got hurt when this happened:

I fell in love with Acorn (now Denali) at first sight. I loved everything about him, and he loved me. Acorn was 15, underweight, and needed a tail brushing, but when we got down to all of that, he ended up shining. I think he was part Saddlebred, but all I knew was that he was at least 75% Arabian, and I have a soft spot for Arabians, as you may know. When I got on him, I didn't know what he would know, so I asked for a jog and then a lope, and he responded like a true pleasure horse. :) He knew barrel patterns, keyhole, how to move laterally, he went over cavaletti, and I rode him bareback in the pasture a lot. He was awesome for me, but a total snot for Grace, so I rode him mainly. He was the next to go up for sale, and I really heavily debated buying him on contract from my boss and using him as my everything horse. He was so awesome. I don't think I'll ever find a horse that awesome again. He ended up getting a great home with a 15 year old girl named Stacy. They just moved to Montana and he went along with them -- it was love at first sight for both of them, and I hope they have a thousand more years of good riding. She does Natural Horsemanship, which I'm not a fan of, but Acorn (whose name has been changed to Denali), seems to thrive doing those games.

Here's a rare picture of Acorn behaving for Grace:

Pretty boy:

Then there was Summer. She was the absolute BANE of my existence for almost the entire time I was working for CEO lady. She was crabby, stubborn, ugly, food aggressive and cantankerous. She would have a bucking fit every time I got on her, and she hated to work. I knew she had potential though, and as I got to know her, I fell in love with her. My boss' daughter used Summer as her training level eventing horse, and Summer could JUMP. The reason she was so snotty was because she was too smart for her own good, and once we unlocked the mystery of Summer, she was so much fun to ride. She was only 14.1 maybe, and my legs just dangled well below her stomach when I rode her bareback, but I didn't care at all. I wanted to find a good home for her (she was for sale too) and never ended up doing that because I couldn't sell her. She was eventually given away, and I miss her too.

Grace taking her over a cavaletti, which she clearly over-jumped:

Summy, mummy, wummy:

And then there was Danny. A perfectly matched horse after my own heart. Danny was as close to another Flash for me than any other horse has ever been, and I regret not taking him when given the opportunity. Danny was a Quarab. He was 15 hands and 15 years old, and a Steady Eddy. I taught a thousand of my friends how to ride horses on Danny, and he was my go-to guy for anyone who was fearful or nervous around horses because he was so gentle. I loved the ever-living crap out of that horse, and treated him like my baby. When I started working for the lady, he was 300 lbs overweight and had a bad coat, so he got baths and conditioner, and I started working him 3x a week. I have never met a horse with more try than Danny, and I don't know if there is one. He did everything I asked him to do, and was a great learner. By the time I quit that job, he knew where all of his legs were supposed to go, was fit enough for flying lead changes, neck reined like a dream, and had a beautiful, floaty extended trot. My boss was selling her property, and that's why all the horses were getting booted off the property, but Danny was her special Mister too, and she didn't want to sell him. She did, however, flat out offer him to me, and I would have taken him if I could have (there were many talks with Jennifer about it), but I had just graduated college and wasn't sure where I was going to end up. Sadly, I am still here, and am kind of glad I didn't take him because I am broke, but I bet I could have made it work. Too little too late, and I have no idea where Danny is. Maybe with his owner, maybe not. I don't think there will ever be another horse in my life like him, but I'd rather not doubt the possibility. ;)

I have a thousand pictures of Danny.

I have no energy to write about my current horse (that I share with Grace). She is present, so I feel like constantly updating about her is enough. I also ride my friend Bree's horse, Luna, but she is not life changing -- she is a jerk. Luna, not Bree. :)

My next update is probably not going to be about horses.

The Horses that Shaped My Riding Part One

I feel like I should chronicle all of the horses in my life that I have loved at one point or another so I have all of those memories in one place. I guess it's been kind of a horsey week for me (this is my second horse post today) but such is life. Topics come and go and I am this person who thinks about these things and writes them all down. So. I should write about some of the horses that have taught me lessons; the ones I've loved, the ones I've lost, and the ones I hated to ride. Horses shape and build character, they help shy, bookish little girls like I was to grow into loud, obnoxious woman who know how to mark time and gain the upper hand. So I will. because ultimately this blog is for me, and all of the horses I've known have built me into the rider I am today. Good and bad. Also, I have a lot of pictures, and who doesn't love to read a story and look at pictures?! I know I do...

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The first horse I ever sat on was an old chestnut lesson horse named Trinket. How I loved riding Trinket. She was lazy, slow, and push-button for beginners. I had my first lope on her on accident when I six and was supposed to be posting to the trot, and that was the moment I fell in love with horses forever. When I was ten or eleven, Trinket colicked early one morning and the damage was irreparable. She was put down, and had the biggest horse funeral I have ever seen. Riders from other states flew in to pay their dues and say goodbye to a horse who taught them so much. I can't believe how many people Trinket taught how to ride, and how many people she touched on the way, even me. I wish I had a picture of her, but I can't seem to find one.

There were a lot of horses in between Trinket and Otto, but Otto (pronounce Oat-oh) was next on the list of horses that changed my life. Otto was the first horse I ever leased, and I remember the exchange of words with my barn owner in her office. I wanted to lease this horse named Linkers and I remember asking over and over, "Kathy, can I lease Linkers? I wanna ride Linkers, how come I can't ride Linkers?" and her reply was simple and non-arguable by a twelve year old, "Eryn, you can't lease Linkers because Linkers is a boy's horse." I had no idea what to say to that, so we decided I would lease Otto; a big, tall, appendix/ paint gelding with soft eyes and an even softer heart. Otto really taught me everything I needed to know about horses including how to get on bareback without flinging myself over his back and onto the ground on the other side, and how to hang on when a horse bolts. He also carried me through my first horse show (we got a 5th place in the bareback class and didn't place through the rest of the day), and let me spend hours brushing him and loving on him. Otto is dead now too, and I miss him. I know I have a picture of Otto here somewhere. I can't find it in our messy closet but I'll keep looking.

I changed trainers after I rode Otto, and switched to the western pleasure trainer at my barn. All of her horses were push-button and fun to ride, and pleasure was such a switch in learning for me. Instead of tearing ass around bareback on a huge, crazy gelding, I was expected to learn how to ride for equitation and for pleasure, and spent a lot of time with a whip tucked in my elbows and across my back. With my pleasure trainer, I learned how to look pretty and how to remain confident and cool in the show pen. I can't remember the registered name of the horse I used to ride for her, but her barn name was Corey and that horse was a nightmare. When she was done working, she would just stop in the middle of the arena and buck, or drift in toward the rail and try to cut the other way. That horse was the source of many tears, troubles, trials and tribulations and I'll never forget her because she taught me to problem solve. I'm surprised I can't find pictures of any of these horses - I took a TON of pictures as a kid. Hm.

My parents finally bought me my first horse. He was an ugly, scraggly arabian gelding named Flash, whose previous owners had not taken incredible care of. He was 200lbs underweight and had a dull, sticky coat. He was 15 and I was 13, and I loved the ever living shit out of him. He was my best friend and also my largest rival, but once we worked through our frustration with each other, he was the best horse I ever had. His story is here: http://vehemently.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/flash/

I have thousands of pictures of Flash, but I'll cut it down to three:

I have since lost track of where Flash is at, but last I checked, he was owned by a family and still being shown over fences. If my math is right, he would be 26.

While I had Flash, my best friend Stacey bought an older, chocolate bay ex-roper named Buddy, and he was an amazing trail horse. We scoured old dirt roads and fields together, and Stacey eventually put Buddy into a dressage program. At some point, she fell off of him, and was afraid to get back on (and also afraid to tell her mom), so I took lessons on him with her trainer until Stacey got her groove back. It took almost a year.

I don't have a lot of pictures of Buddy, but he is still alive and well and lives at a barn near Stacey's house in Corvallis, Oregon. He is close to me, too, which is awesome. It's fun to go ride him sometimes and re-live ten years ago.

The last horse I loved from the very first barn I rode at was this little 13.3 hand arab gelding named Roy. I imagine he is dead now, as I rode him for his owner when I was about 17, and he was already ancient, but you never know. His mom let me use him for punk rock riding lessons (which is a whole other blog entry) and for fun time play time whenever I wanted. Roy was a turd, but I loved him effortlessly. He was not very well trained and had steering, stopping and going issues, but I dealt with all of those things and he ended up being super once we moved past them. I used him once for a punk rock riding lesson where we were learning how to fall properly, and my best friend Jewel took a face plant off of Roy that we still talk about today. He just stopped when she fell and looked at her like, "How you get there, blue hair girl?" He was very small and very sweet. I took pictures of him one day before his owner moved him to another city, and I don't know what happened to him after that. You can see Buddy in the background, there. It's a picture of a picture, obviously.

After Roy, I had Tyke, who I wrote about this morning: here. I'll throw another picture up of him though, because he is cute.

Part Two will chronicle all of the horses that I have loved in some way from the beginning of my adulthood to now (and I have pictures of every single one of them). It will be magical. Stay tuned!

Tyke

I miss the first horse I ever bought myself. I was 18, super punk rock, and bored with my life. He was two and a half, allegedly broke, and perfect for me.

I spent a whopping $1,000 on him in 2005 (that was a lot of money for an 18 year old working at Starbucks) and ended up re-selling him for more than that to a girl who wanted to be a veterinarian someday. I bought him as a green broke 2 year old from these two girls who were "pleasure trainers" in San Diego, but as I found out, he was very not broke. My friend Gaby ended up showing up at their barn right around the same time as me looking to buy Tyke, so I hurriedly purchased him before Gaby could. She ended up settling for Tyke's half brother JD who was a PSYCHO BS Paint gelding. I wonder what ever happened to JD...

Anyway, Tyke was born a month premature, and was totally stunted (he was 14.0 maybe) and unbalanced, so I threw him in a stall with a run for 6 months, fed him grow colt, and broke him myself in the spring. He gained probably 300lbs, and a whole hand in height, and though his ears were embarrassingly small, he grew into his body.

This is the picture of him that was listed when I went to look at him:

Here I am on him right after I bought him, and right before I put him out to pasture for 6 months. You can clearly see how small he was then (I was 5'9 when I was 18 and did not have incredibly long (or lean for that matter) legs:

God, was he ever fun to ride. He was slow, and after a couple of weeks I got him to give to the bit and bending his body through turns. I wanted him as a reining prospect, but he traveled with a naturally low headset and wasn't anywhere near as fast as I wanted him to be. I've never gotten on another baby that was bred for pleasure like he was, and I totally regret selling him.

When I finally sold him, he was still green, but was moving very nicely for walk/ jog, and was almost finished at the lope. I wonder where he is now and if he's okay. I know he went into training with Sean Martin in Anza, CA and I saw that he was up for sale for $500 a couple of years ago, but have no idea where he may be now. I'd love to get in touch with the person that owns him just to see how he is.

This is what he looked like the month I sold him:

Pretty boy. He was still a little downhill, but not as dramatically so as when I bought him. If you know this horse, I'd love to hear how he is. :)

It's Sunny!

Yesterday Jen got paid and we went to the optometrist together to buy glasses! After two years of dealing with my crazy astigmatism eye, driving at night and squinting to see, and being unable to read things ten feet away, I finally will have glasses to see again in a week or so! This makes me happy. It's nice to be engaged and feel like I have my own little family. This weekend we are going camping and have plans to fish on the Lewis River, but I think Jen may change the place since we have rickety kids fishing poles and the only fish to catch there are Steelhead and Salmon (and they weigh like 390409498 lbs) and they will break our fishing poles.

We went fishing this past weekend with Jen's mom, Sue, and I caught four fish! I thought fishing was a lie, but lo and behold, I caught the most fish out of anyone. Here is me with the first fish I've ever caught:

It was pretty awesome.

I let Jen take my car to work today because I couldn't get up to drop her off. I really should start doing that - at least get into the swing of waking up not at noon and doing something in the wee morning hours so I start to feel better. Seems like a good idea.

I haven't been out to the barn in almost three weeks and I know Grace hasn't either. Poor Tina has had some serious time off and is just toodling in the pasture with no direction and certainly is losing muscle tone. I feel guilty that neither Grace nor I, have been able to make an effort to get Tina taken care of, but I can't afford the gas out to the barn and I feel miserable trying to ride in the heat alone. So Tina sits. I'm sure she's super duper happy about not being ridden, but I think it might be time to head back out there. Maybe tomorrow.

For now, I will continue chatting with Jen on Facebook about places to go camping, and dream of the fish I will catch when we go. :)

Day One.

This is not day one, but for all intensive purposes, we’ll call it day one. Really, this is day one thousand, day one million that I, EPD, have spent toiling away trying to find a job as a Funeral Director’s Apprentice. Please don’t think I haven’t tried. I’ve cold called, cold emailed, walked in and handed over my resume, replied to job postings for experienced professionals, had interviews with multiple funeral homes and first call businesses, even offered to work for free and still I find myself unable to obtain employment.

I’m starting to think I’m doing something wrong. Jobs are posting for applicants, and I am applying. My field is relatively small and inaccessible unless you’ve gone to school, and there were only 30 of us – most of which have already flown home to Montana or Idaho or wherever it is they came from. So. What gives? Is it me?

I’m fat. I know I shouldn’t dog myself to death about my weight, but all of my thin classmates seem to be employed at funeral homes already. I am definitely chatty and sometimes obnoxious, but only in public and never in an interview or work setting. I WANT to be a funeral director – I have to be professional all the time, and am totally capable of that. Maybe people see me differently? I don’t know.

All I know is that I feel trapped and freaked out, grovelling for jobs that are weekend days only, that pay $9.00 an hour. I interviewed at a first call place on Friday that promised to get back to me ASAP – they seemed really excited to interview someone who graduated the program. I went in my best suit, was on time, smelled nice, made eye contact, and said “I don’t mind working weekends, I don’t mind $9.00 an hour, oh you want to call me? Yes, please call me!” Of course they didn’t call. They just re-posted their job offer on craigslist on Monday instead. Obviously they are passing me up, hoping that they may find a better applicant. I don’t know what to do. I feel so discouraged. I’m extroverted, well spoken, and intelligent. People seem to like me and enjoy me in an interview setting. I make people chuckle, and seem to be respected and appreciated inside the building, but as soon as I leave am I what, forgotten?

Will I ever be a funeral director, or will I work at McDonalds for the rest of my life?

I hate to be so morose, but I’ve been applying for jobs and trying to make it work since last September. It’s been almost a year of school, testing, freaking out, struggling, graduating, and frantically searching for employment with not even a light at the end of the tunnel. Just this hopeless, endless blackness that I am fighting tooth and nail. I’ve applied everywhere, interviewed out of state, chatted on the phone, shown up and paid my dues and still, here I am.

Now what?

We’ll see, I guess.