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May. 30th, 2008 06:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickTwelve days until the Exciting Court Date wherein we will meet BadPayer and see what the justice system has to offer me in lieu of payment. It should be fun. (Once I secure a judgment against BadPayer, I can tell you what his name is and how much he owes me and stuff like that. Judgments are public record, so all of Google will know what he has done to me.)
In other news, I do believe I have purchased a nicer pony saddle than my existing pony saddle. I'm working on arrangements to pick it up from the lady over the weekend. More information on that as it becomes available. (I realize that different saddles is not a matter of breaking news to anyone but me. Too damn bad. This is Channel Me and it contains news I find important.)
Also, the hysterical committee (keeps buildings in a narrowly-defined downtown area properly historical) has decided in its infinite wisdom that we may not paint the old brick negro school (that's how it is referred to in the walking tour of historic downtown) but must have it repointed for approximately four bazillion dollars. Or, y'know, we could do nothing and let it crumble to the ground so that we could build a better apartment building. There's always that option.
They also decided that we could tear down the little store (three doors down from the old brick negro school) because it is a plank-and-batten structure that's about fifteen feet wide, neither square nor level, and has daylight visible through the walls.
I had pony night last night, on Ashley, the red roan pony of doom. If I owned this pony, I would never ride her. Ever. She would moulder in her stall, unridden, until she died. She's a school horse and she knows it. She stands still and refuses to move until you ask exactly right. (And it's not my pony. It's Pony Lady's pony, which means that I am not allowed to haul off and kick the fucking snot out of it until it damn well respects my leg. No. I have to ask, over and over again, with gentle little calf squeezes and seat, which are ignored, until finally she deigns to walk off. I am not allowed to put my heels to her and if I do, I get yelled at. "You didn't ask nicely first." Buh? So I sit there and I damn well ask nicely and ask nicely and ask nicely and the fucking horse ignores me. Pony lady gives me a crop but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with that and anything I do is wrong. I don't whack my horses, so not very up to speed with crops. My fucking horses move off of my thrice-damned leg and I DO NOT NEED A DAMN CROP so I never learned to use one.) Ashley the red roan pony of doom stops if your leg position moves half an inch out of where it "should" be. She stops if you touch the fucking reins for contact of any sort but also stops if you throw the reins away. The "happy medium" between contact and throwing the reins away is about a quarter inch, so good luck finding that. She stops if you lean forward. She stops if you don't move your body/head enough once she finally gets underway. Every damn time I sit on Ashley, I feel like I totally cannot ride at all. The amount of frustrating that is going on with pony nights spent riding Ashley is unreal.
Pony lady is like "The stuff you ride doesn't stop if your leg comes off. That's wrong. Your horse should stop whenever you aren't actively riding." Uhm, color me not buying this. I don't want to have to actively ride every step of a ten mile conditioning ride. I want autopilot. I want set-and-forget. I DO NOT want to have to spend every fucking canter stride going "canter, canter, canter, canter, canter" in rhythm with the motion of the horse. I want to say "canter" ONCE and then have the horse keep doing that until I say otherwise. I don't want to have to nudge my trotting horse with my leg every other step (you can only really nudge when you're sitting, which is half the time, at the rising trot) to ensure that she stays trotting. She should know enough to STAY trotting once I've asked her to trot, until I ask her to do something else.
In other news, I do believe I have purchased a nicer pony saddle than my existing pony saddle. I'm working on arrangements to pick it up from the lady over the weekend. More information on that as it becomes available. (I realize that different saddles is not a matter of breaking news to anyone but me. Too damn bad. This is Channel Me and it contains news I find important.)
Also, the hysterical committee (keeps buildings in a narrowly-defined downtown area properly historical) has decided in its infinite wisdom that we may not paint the old brick negro school (that's how it is referred to in the walking tour of historic downtown) but must have it repointed for approximately four bazillion dollars. Or, y'know, we could do nothing and let it crumble to the ground so that we could build a better apartment building. There's always that option.
They also decided that we could tear down the little store (three doors down from the old brick negro school) because it is a plank-and-batten structure that's about fifteen feet wide, neither square nor level, and has daylight visible through the walls.
I had pony night last night, on Ashley, the red roan pony of doom. If I owned this pony, I would never ride her. Ever. She would moulder in her stall, unridden, until she died. She's a school horse and she knows it. She stands still and refuses to move until you ask exactly right. (And it's not my pony. It's Pony Lady's pony, which means that I am not allowed to haul off and kick the fucking snot out of it until it damn well respects my leg. No. I have to ask, over and over again, with gentle little calf squeezes and seat, which are ignored, until finally she deigns to walk off. I am not allowed to put my heels to her and if I do, I get yelled at. "You didn't ask nicely first." Buh? So I sit there and I damn well ask nicely and ask nicely and ask nicely and the fucking horse ignores me. Pony lady gives me a crop but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with that and anything I do is wrong. I don't whack my horses, so not very up to speed with crops. My fucking horses move off of my thrice-damned leg and I DO NOT NEED A DAMN CROP so I never learned to use one.) Ashley the red roan pony of doom stops if your leg position moves half an inch out of where it "should" be. She stops if you touch the fucking reins for contact of any sort but also stops if you throw the reins away. The "happy medium" between contact and throwing the reins away is about a quarter inch, so good luck finding that. She stops if you lean forward. She stops if you don't move your body/head enough once she finally gets underway. Every damn time I sit on Ashley, I feel like I totally cannot ride at all. The amount of frustrating that is going on with pony nights spent riding Ashley is unreal.
Pony lady is like "The stuff you ride doesn't stop if your leg comes off. That's wrong. Your horse should stop whenever you aren't actively riding." Uhm, color me not buying this. I don't want to have to actively ride every step of a ten mile conditioning ride. I want autopilot. I want set-and-forget. I DO NOT want to have to spend every fucking canter stride going "canter, canter, canter, canter, canter" in rhythm with the motion of the horse. I want to say "canter" ONCE and then have the horse keep doing that until I say otherwise. I don't want to have to nudge my trotting horse with my leg every other step (you can only really nudge when you're sitting, which is half the time, at the rising trot) to ensure that she stays trotting. She should know enough to STAY trotting once I've asked her to trot, until I ask her to do something else.
