(no subject)

I go out on the insane red horse today. Wish me luck. I didn't sleep for shit last night, was up every hour or so with visions of disaster (not me-horse-wreck disaster, just generic disaster, like a vicious screaming fight between me and my little brother about how I can't read books properly to the nephew and someone (for a prank) locking Casper in the chicken coop, where she managed to shear off her front leg.) and my damn hip hurts me, to boot. 'M going anyway. Everyone please to be thinking generally amenable thoughts in my direction, okay?

Cousin Jon says he'll finish up my woodpile today. I don't think he's got a clue as to the extent of the woodpile and I damn well think he should have gotten on it during the summer. However, I didn't jump all over his ass about it all summer because he's SUPPOSED to be a grown up and should not NEED to be badgered about doing things he said he would do. Responsiblity is part of being a grownup. Besides, if he doesn't get it done, he can damn well leave the excitement of college and college girls on weekends and see to my woodpile. As he's proven his lack o' responsibility, I feel free to crank up the badger-o-matic, here. I *tried* letting him be a grownup. He had his chance.

(no subject)

Back from going out on the insane red horse. I did not die.

I went with La, Liss, Cass, Lynn, and Lynn's daughter Lydia. I rode Nick, La rode Ginger (Connie's young red mare), Liss took Martini, Cass took Chelsea, Lynn took her app mare Pumpkin, and Lydia borrowed Eikon.

The ride was two and a half, maybe three hours of mountain riding. Some of the trail was singletrack, but a lot of it was logging-size roads that two folks on horses or one car could fit on. There were steepish hills up and down, not the steepest I've ever ridden on, but steep enough to make the saddle slide around (I test drove another saddle on this ride. Verdict: No. Fits neither horse nor rider well. Damn, my ass hurts. I'm gonna be hobbling tomorrow.) There were very rocky parts, some of them muddy (we've had a lot of rain lately) runoff creeks, that the horses had to pick through carefully. There were MULES (this is a big ticket item if you're a horse that doesn't live where mules do. Ours don't see mules at home.) on the ride and in fields that we passed. There were several good-sized real creeks that we crossed. There was lots of brush along the trail, much of it brushing against us as we went past. There were many walkover logs that'd fallen across paths. There were (oddly) dead cars all through the woods, some of them very 1940's in appearance. One of these had a tree that'd fallen on it. There were people in cabins, doing stuff like running chainsaws and mowing the lawn. I'm pointing these things out as scenery and obstacles so that the folks at home have some idea of the things encountered on a trail ride. It's not anywhere near as boring as going round and round in circles in a level, obstacle-free arena.

So how'd it go? Nick didn't put one foot wrong the entire fucking ride. *heh* So much for killing me. She handled all the obstacles (admittedly, motor-vehicle traffic was not one of the available obstacles) with aplomb. She was solid, capable, and workmanlike. If I were any prouder, I'd burst. Such a good horse!