Custom Portable Drying Rack: Another SB Blog Non-Crafty DIY

I dunno about the rest of y'all, but I read these awesome crafty write ups and am like damn ladies. You so fine. I'm just over here being average.

you too can do a craft

Because they're like Step One: get some shit (ok yes tracking so far i can do stores) and then it's like Step Two: use this other shit you have sitting around (hard pass i don't have those things and NOPE not going back to the store) and I sometimes keep nodding along like oh yeah that makes so much sense even I could do that.

Funny joke no. I could not.

I am the best at ordering things on the internet. Like pizza. If that was a craft, I would be the craft queen.

But it is not.

now all i can think about is pizza

So if you're more like me than you normally admit out loud and/or if you super need a drying rack for your shit, you're in the right place. I promise you simple step-by-step instructions and BEST PART you don't even need any supplies. Best. Craft. Ever.

1) Get a beverage. Dehydration is a real thing and so is pacing yourself and not trying too hard. You can choose an appropriate beverage for your lifestyle choices and situation. I went with the biggest iced coffee I could find to get me jazzed up for crafts.

pro tip: if you bring your corgi to the coffee drive thru, the annoying barista will talk to him instead of you
#winning

2) It kind of goes without saying that you need wet stuff to put on your drying rack and that if you're building it outside, the weather should be amenable to drying. On my particular test day it was 90f+ with no humidity and I had just scrubbed all the boots I keep in my tack trunk but didn't want to be THAT BOARDER who clogs up the wash rack with their shit.

pictured: not the rack you will be building

3) Get some twine. Now this is where it gets tricky. I'm going to throw in some safety warnings here:

3a) Do not take twine off of bales still in the hay stack, particularly not ones which might create a booby trap for you BO. That is dangerous and mean. 

3b) If taking twine out of the garbage, make sure to check for various critters before just jamming your hand into a dark hole you can't see. I take no responsibility for said hand getting bitten by snakes or rats or cats or whatever varmints are around your place. 

pictured: not a varmint

My particular twine came from the trash because my barn is fab about not leaving loose twine on bales.

3c) There are different colors of twine. You can use any color.

3d) If your barn does not have twine, you should probably give up now. Otherwise you have to buy string and that's a downer.

4) Find an out of the way place that is reasonably close to your stall where no one has an excuse to tamper with your shit that you are ok with having water drip all over. This step might be harder in a super fancy barn that's like "indoors" when you're inside it. My barn aisle is dirt so I can drip away.

pictured: drunk horse in barn aisle

5) Tie the twine to a fixed point. If you have scissors, you can hard tie it. If you do not have access to blades, do a quick release.

6) Tie the other end of the twine to a different fixed point. You end result should look like a loop of twine hanging between two fixed points.

yeah that's impossible to see. it's a feature.

7) Hang wet shit on drying rack.

8) PARTAY GIRLFRIEND YOU DID IT. Pat yourself on the back and enjoy your beverage.

9) I mentioned this rack is fully custom and portable. If you want to level up, you can braid several pieces of twine together in your colors or hang multiple loops. If you need to move it, you can just take it wherever. If your BO complains, you can even wear it like a necklace and just prance around with your wet boots dripping on you as kind of a "statement piece".

WHOA FASHION ADVICE.

You didn't see that coming.

And there you go. I know there's kind of a lot of steps but I wanted to cover my bases and over-prepare you guys rather than let you get to the middle of the project and realize that you needed more information to proceed. And hey! If you successfully complete this project, take a picture and send it to me!

Or just have a sip of your beverage and don't. 

Horse Show Hungover

Things with Courage have been rough lately. Not fun. Not easy. Not pleasant. I'm working my tail end off and doing the best I know how, but for me, this has to be fun. It's not. 

pictured: people who jump

I mentioned we were signed up to do a dressage test at the event derby this past weekend. They only have the small arena set up, so we dropped down to training level. I spent Friday afternoon and Saturday morning auditing the Karen O'Connor clinic at the show facility, then skipped out at the lunch break to ride my own beastie.

It was bad.

Like. Bolting. Leaping. Tension. Had to get off and lunge and watch a massive flailing meltdown for quite a while, and even when I did get back on, it took a long time to get a right lead canter without bucking. It wasn't pretty or good or fun.

this outfit needs polos

Not gonna lie--I had to very seriously ask why I was even bothering. I've been at it almost three years with this horse and that day, he felt less broke than he did a year ago.

Then I went back to the clinic and watched good friends have horrible rides and good friends have great rides.

And I realized that no matter what horse I have and how good (or bad) I am, I only have what the horse can give me on any given day. Bad days happen. They're part of the process.

And either I can deal with that or I need to walk away, because that's the reality of horses.

look who's not terrified!

So on that positive note, we headed off to the show Sunday morning. Courage loaded and unloaded like a champ. He wasn't an idiot when we got there, and when I got on, he was the calmest and most relaxed he's been in weeks. I got on well over an hour early just in case. Didn't need it--I trotted him around for 5 minutes before our test and had a relaxed, rideable horse.

can't argue with that halt

I mean, don't get me wrong: it wasn't brilliant. It wasn't amazing. I didn't push him for much. It was the hottest day of the year so far and I certainly wasn't killing it with my rider score.

But given our last outing or even our last ride, I was ELATED that I didn't need to hit the panic button. I didn't even want to. He felt comfortable.

i said comfortable, not brilliant

It was a schooling test of choice with no ribbons or competition, so I did make the call to ride in a standing martingale with the judge's permission--Courage does not need help learning that he can blow up and leave when we go away from home. I used the neckstrap a couple times just to give myself some security to and from warm up, but otherwise he never hit it.

Our score was fine--a 61 and change for a conservative ride. There's even video if you're super bored. The competitive side of me is really disappointed in us because I know we can do so much better. The horse trainer side is absolutely stoked for one more calm, positive experience in the ring for a horse that is still learning his new job.

stretching!

All in all, I'm pleased. It was exactly the outing we needed. I'm seriously tempted to see if I can wiggle in to the next show in two weeks and move us back to first level, but there are a lot of variables to consider before I jump on that plan.

sexy face while making plans

Oh and PS you can all thank Redheadlins for the video, Alyssa will have pictures in the near future (or possibly already, but I'm writing this Sunday and then I'm DONE) and we had a fun meetup with fellow #teamidaho blogger Nadia, but I utterly failed in the friend selfie department. 

When to Sell

the wrong horse

Denny Emerson has been going on lately about the right horse and what it is and how to know. I think that is a fantastic conversation to start. I mean, when a blogger is debating the merits of their current horse, I am frequently the jackass who jumps right in and tells them to sell the horse.

As I've chronicled ad nauseam, I went through this situation with a horse  I owned when I first got back into riding as an adult. It was a dismal experience and it almost made me quit riding. But here's the thing: just because you have doubts about your horse doesn't mean you should sell. Look at it this way instead:

1) Do you look forward to riding YOUR HORSE each day?
2) Does seeing YOUR HORSE's face over the gate make your heart go pitter pat?
3) Are you happy and confident while riding YOUR HORSE?
4) Are you safe (both in your own estimation and that of relevant pros)?
5) Is your horse physically/mentally/emotionally capable of pursuing your realistic goals?
5b) If not, are you willing to change your goals to suit your horse?

If you answered yes to all of these questions, keep your horse. There is literally no reason to sell it. But wait! Go through this next set of questions too.

6) Has your horse put you in the ER/hospital?
7) More than once?
8) Do you sometimes think it would be ok if your horse had a tragic pasture accident?
9) Does the idea of doing your chosen sport with your horse make you nervous/upset/worried?
10) Do you keep your horse because you're afraid it might end up as hamburgers if you sell?
11) Have relevant professionals expressed apprehension about your ability to flourish in this partnership?

If you answered yes to questions 6-11, SELL THE HORSE NOW. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

what dreams are made of

I know that when I first joined the ranks of re-riding adults, I had illusions of forever homes and rainbows and glitter and all, but the horse I started the journey with was wrong for me in every way and there was no one to stand there and say "WHOA. Not. Ok."

It took a long process (and hospital visits) and a lot of money wasted and finally meeting the horse of my dreams to convince me to let go.

But it didn't have to be that hard. I wasn't safe. I was scared and miserable, but I didn't have the framework to understand that because for 3 years, the only horse I rode was that one horrible mare.

All partnerships have rough patches and many of those rough patches are worth seeing through. BUT. As adult ammies, we aren't in this to save the world or go to Rolex or whatever. We're here to have fun.

So if you find yourself on the fence about whether or not your partnership is working out, here's the #1 thing I recommend: (IMPORTANT)

1) Put a timeline on it.

Last fall, Courage and I hit a seriously rough patch. I wasn't having fun. He wasn't improving. Things were getting out of hand. I wasn't unsafe, but the rides were sapping my enjoyment of horses.

So I told Courage and several friends I trusted to hold me accountable that if I wasn't having fun by March of 2015, I would sell him and find something more suitable.

That doesn't mean I gave up on him--I did pro rides and lessons and changed barns and trainers and did some time off and explored every relevant avenue because I wanted to make things work.

fav

By the time March rolled around this year, Courage and I had reached a new agreement and we are progressing happily. He's staying, but I don't regret what I said in the fall.

There will be rough patches, but they have to stay patches. If they sprawl out and seep into our perceptions of "normal" life, we very quickly find ourselves with the wrong horse in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that makes no one happy.

And if no one's happy, you have the wrong horse.

The Screw Ups

yes more of this

I know I post lots of beautiful pictures of my horse dressaging like a pro. I love beautiful pictures and Courage is doing really, really well given his life history and my ability to teach a sport I barely know at all.

That's just one side of it. Sure, there are pretty moments and breath taking progress and and the fun times.

The hard things and the challenges and the failures are WAY less fun to talk about and post pictures of.

That last shot exemplifies where Courage is with his left lead canter. Yeah, I look like a hunter rider (but yay I'm effective so w/e), but Courage is soft with his hind end engaged and in a great balance and frame for a wanna-be training level horse.

brace ALL THE THINGS

And trust me, I wish that was our normal.

It isn't.

To the right, Courage is a whole different horse. I don't know if it's a right hand/right rein problem or a left hind problem or a chiro problem or a race horse problem or even a structural asymmetrical-ness in me. Maybe all of them together.

Maybe something else entirely.

if it was our first canter under saddle, it would be great. it's not.

I've been really frustrated about this particular issue lately, because I've attacked it from every angle I know how to and NOTHING has made a difference. I know one side is going to be harder than another, but does it really have to be this ugly?

I was debating training rides and gadgets and various expensive ideas, but I wanted one last ride to rule out poor riding. I took Courage in the indoor. That's a much smaller space, so the wall would serve to steer for me and I could just focus on riding.

We started very basic-- walk on the buckle to working walk. Then working walk to free walk. Then walk to trot to stretchy trot to walk to trot.

mid transition, but so balanced

Every step in a slight shoulder fore. Any resistance and we came back to walk to start at the bottom again.

Wouldn't you know, after about a solid 40 minutes of work, I had a LOVELY trot/canter transition to the right. We immediately took a walk break on the buckle as a reward, and then we started over again.

The next time only took about 15 minutes.

And then we were done.

this used to be hard

It's not exciting to read, though it's quite interesting to ride. It's just thorough, slow, methodical training.

It's teaching Courage that yes, he can canter on the right lead without flinging his head in the air and running.

He can slow down and balance and carry himself from behind.

In all fairness, he did not know that before.

And it's really hard for him.

he does have a great face

I don't usually post ugly right canter pictures because no one wants to look at them, but it's an important part of our journey. This is Courage and I, learning and progressing at our own pace.

I'm not a dressage expert or any kind of trainer. He's a talented and opinionated horse who refuses to be forced in to anything. We'll never compete on a national level or make some sort of team or set a speed record for advancing up the levels, and we aren't trying to.

At this point we'll be lucky to pull out a decent training level test this year and I still don't know how I feel about showing over jumps.

I don't want to get to caught up in showing the pretty part of riding to blogland and neglect the challenges. Screw ups aren't usually brag-worthy (hopefully), but they still happen. And someday, we will have a right lead canter to be proud of.

Gratitude

Christmas 2013

I'm still here. Thank you for all your kind words. I feel lost. The whole thing is just so unreal. Cuna was supposed to be with me forever--or at least another ten years or so.

I know I did the right thing for him and I'm glad he's not in pain any more.

It's a grim solace, but it's all I've got.

I'm left with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. That old red man changed my life in so many ways. It wasn't just that he let me learn to ride again. Everything about him, my Cuna Matata, everything made me a stronger, better person than I was the day before he paddled his way into my heart.

Badass at 17

Every time I think about the last two years, I just shake my head. I couldn't write this as fiction because it's just too sappy and serendipitous and unreal for anyone to ever believe it, even in some crazy teenage horse story. I was terrified and miserable and ready to walk away from horses.

And then he came. Not only was he huge and handsome and perfect for me, but his silly name was Hakuna Matata. No worries. For the rest of our days.

I can tell that we are gonna be friends

He was standoffish at first, but I wanted to be friends. I bought him a giant bag of peppermints. At first, he'd only take one a day from me. He was closed off and distant.

The cutest face

That lasted maybe a week. I took his picture with me on a big horse show trip to California, and I knew he was the face I wanted to come back to. He was the one for me. It wasn't that I needed a schoolmaster. I needed that schoolmaster. I needed him.

Jumping a house

He taught me about that ridiculous crazy love that makes every moment apart seem unreasonable. He taught me just how much fun we could have together. I could (and did!) ride him everywhere. It wasn't just the riding and jumping. It was the day to day existence, that tacit understanding that everything was ok, because no matter what, we were together.

Just hang on

I faced all kinds of struggles because I had to for him. I dealt with difficult personal situations. I dealt with uncomfortable work situations. I had to push myself, grow as an individual, and become stronger inside and out. It was never easy, but I can look back at the changes I've made and know that today, I am a better, stronger, wiser, and more compassionate human being because that old man horse just patiently waited for me to figure it out.

Conquering water

Not to paint him as something he wasn't--Cuna would never suffer the fools. He demanded a strong ride with the softest hands. He absolutely required steady legs and a still upper body. He only approved a very few riders and I was lucky to be on that list.

Always the tongue

He was noble and he was incredibly goofy. I'll never forget the day he fell in love with the new mare--his head straight up in the air, his silly whinny every time he paddled his way out of his stall to assure the mare that he was still there. And then of course, when I put him in the cross ties and he kicked out to impress her... and his shoe went flying through the air.

Even now, I laugh.

The best view

I treasure the memories of our long solo trail rides through the mountains. We explored everywhere. No matter what, I knew I was safe with Cuna. Big loose dogs would run up to us barking, and he'd just stand his ground and wait. As they got close, he'd lower his head down below his withers and look at them. It never failed. No matter how big the dog, when they got close to the sheer enormity that was Cuna, they quieted down and backed right up.

Reins flying in the wind

There was nothing like the feeling of our early morning gallops. When prepping for our season at Beginner Novice, I probably had him fit to run training. At least. We hacked up the trails until our favorite gallop stretch and then let loose. I never had to ask him to go--I just had to let him know it was an option. The wind whipped my face and made my eyes run, but nothing could wipe the smile off my face. He'd gallop all the way to our finish line, a sagebrush at the top of the long stretch. Then I'd drop the reins and he'd drop to the walk, and we'd hack home on the buckle.

The bravest horse

We chased coyotes and watched deer. We laughed as the young horses spooked and galloped around us. My favorite was when the training horse behind us bolted and bucked past us. Cuna would never lose a race, but he didn't even flick an ear as the horse galloped by. He knew it was trouble and far be it from him to participate in that kind of shenanigan.

Just starting to put the sticks up

And we jumped. Little things at first--he let me just sit there while he packed my butt over tiny fences again and again. I didn't even have to put any leg on as long as I didn't pull on his face. When I finally got myself sorted out, we moved the jumps up like it was no big thing. I jumped higher and rode better than I had in my entire life. He demanded that I ride well once the fences went up, but he was more than fair.

Things we never forget

He was so big and inflexible anyways that I knew that if I had him pointed in the right direction three strides out, we were going to the fence. He might stop, but there was no way he could turn the whole Cuna in time to run out. Some people thought that was a drawback--I always saw it as an advantage.

Unless it was lengthenings. Everyone likes those.

Both of us hated dressage. Who wants to play in the sandbox when there are trails to explore? I do love ribbons though, so we took a few lessons and got sort of good. He gave me everything he had, but he was such a big fellow that sitting down on his hocks required a hell of a lot of expensive maintenance.

So Cuna

He was worth it. In our last six months under saddle together, he kept pace with a prelim event horse in the hills, hacked quietly down busy roads, put in a solid jumping effort in a fancy clinic, and won ribbons at a dressage show. He really did it all.

Retirement shots

Even when he retired, he kept me grounded. It was under his watchful brown eyes that I extricated myself from some unpleasant personal situations and made decisions about my career. He'd look at me and somehow, he just knew. And because he knew, I knew it was ok. He made the hard things simple. Hakuna Matata. Life will go on.

I didn't go to the racetrack to get a horse--I went because I still loved horses, but it hurt too much to hang out at Cuna's old barn and watch everybody else jump. The racetrack was a haven for me, a place to have fun and connect with the old man's past a little bit.

And then I met a horse named Courage.





It was too much. Too sappy, too silly. Hakuna Matata brought me to Courage. At the time, I thought it was sort of symbolic--Courage to overcome the obstacles of the past, courage to become the person I needed to be.

Over the last month, I've realized that there was more. Courage from the past, yes, but courage for the future. Courage to make the hard decisions. Courage to do the right thing. Courage going forward.

Courage is Cuna's legacy in my life. Courage to breathe, to live, to love. Courage that I can overcome.

Courage. The little bay face in the barn.

The handsomest horse

It's too serendipitous and sappy and poetic to be fiction. No one would believe it, except that it's true. I miss the old man horse. I want to believe that I'll see him again. But I know that whatever happens, the hoof prints he left on my heart have made me a better, stronger person and I'll forever be grateful to him for that.

Hakuna Matata

The one and only

2013 Year in Review!!

Probably my favorite aspect of having a blog is just the ability it gives me to look back over my life and see where I've been and where I'm headed. I love this time of year--I look through my posts from the past year and pick out one per month that really summarized what that month was about. I usually try to do a goals wrap up, but that was an epic fail this year for reasons completely out of my control. Instead of worrying about that, let's look at what happened in 2013!

I hate winter

January: 

This goes down as the second most miserable month of my life and I was I was being hyperbolic. I was laid off from my office job and picked up full time hours at the barn just in time for Idaho to experience three weeks of record breaking cold. Highs in the single digits, lows below zero, and I was struggling just to put gas in my car. Did I mention the barn had no power and the hydrants all froze and I was hand-carrying buckets to all 17 horses? Here's a post I wrote just before the cold really got bad: Winter Sets In.

Best Valentines

February: 

Basically I just appreciated what Cuna and I had going. I wrote One Year and One Day to celebrate our first anniversary. The real take away from February was just reflecting on what great things Cuna had been able to do for me.

From the day we met <3

I realized the value of a schoolmaster and overcame some lingering mental blocks about what I perceived as failures on my part with the mare I sold last year. Here's the post that sums up my feelings on the matter: Honesty and Horsemanship

handwalking is not his favorite

March: 

Cuna and I were taking some dressage lessons and advancing quickly. In Fancy Pants Dressage, I talk about the progress we were making. My blogging was down that month--Cuna was having some odd problems that didn't make sense. Little things here and there were popping up. None of them were concerning on their own, but putting the pieces together wasn't making a lot of sense. Cuna tied up on a trail ride in March, summed up in the post: A Scare

flicky toes

April: 

More changes. Cuna and I kept working hard at the dressage with an occasional jump lesson. Elbows on Fire is a post where I talk about our breakthroughs. I got his hocks injected again and he was in fine form. His body looked like a proper dressage horse and his neck was incredible.

hacking out

We were also getting pretty burned out on arena work. He and I started hacking down the roads around the barn to visit friends and meet new people. I could trust him in the worst of conditions and one of our friends took pictures of him in her field, chronicled in Coversation Starter.

more handwalking

May: 

The shit hit the fan in May. Cuna was brilliant in our jumping clinic and exceptional at our dressage show. That was the last time he was sound. Again, little things weren't adding up and I blogged about it in Stuck.

His team at work

After his public successes, Cuna continued to get progressively more lame despite all the management changes that were made. We made a joint appointment with his vet and farrier and took him in. It wasn't all smooth sailing. I summarized the appointment in Cuna Update.

a moment in time

June: 

There was nothing easy about June. Cuna was trying to get better, but it was a very long process. He made strides at first and we took his picture in Happy. Shortly after that, he regressed. I kept away from the show barn as much as possible, because it was just too hard to watch everyone else doing what I knew Cuna couldn't.

still together

I spent in a new part of the horse industry: the racetrack. It went from a fun night out with friends to showing up to help out several times a week and get my horsey fix as noted in At the Track. At the end of the month, I made the decision to retire Cuna instead of torturing both of us over something we couldn't change in the post Towards Healing.

after a bath

July: 

It started out slow. We hit record high temperatures while Cuna hung out in the shade at his new home. In The New Normal, I talk about the dealing with the emotions of letting go of a career for the horse I love the most. His shoes got pulled and he just got to be a horse with no plans or goals.

meet Courage!

I spent increasingly more time at the track. I was having fun out of the saddle and things were going along just swimmingly until I accidentally ended up bringing a second horse home. It was the beginning of a more hopeful era summed up in The Road Goes Ever On and On.

important Cuna stuff to do

August: 

Courage came to join us, but Cuna was still my main man. He was taking it slow in the field, which I talk about in Can't Forget Cuna.

bay ears!

Courage came straight off the track and started under saddle. He continued to prove that he was the second most awesome horse on the planet by going on field trips to group lessons and getting his first set of real horse shoes which he tried to eat in Taking Off the Gym Shoes. He learned important skills like eating cookies and lunging and was the first bright spot for me all summer, which I talk about in One Month of Awesome.

first show!

September: 

I was dealing with the emotions of letting Cuna retire. In Honesty, I talk about how hard it was for me when our relationship changed. Courage was helping me stay focused and upbeat. He demonstrated his road-warrior brain when he didn't even flinch about going to his first horse show in Showtime for Courage.

artsy fun!

Based on our success there, I took him to his first ever XC clinic and wrote the Wrapup here. As long as we were out and about, I also took him to a big group lesson so we could practice having horses go by and jumps fall down. He rocked my world in Only the Best Idea Ever.

love them

October: 

In keeping with our up tempo pace, Courage and I participated in the two point challenge. I talked about the year for Cuna and why I decided to retire him.

SEE ALL THE THINGS

Courage continued to impress as he went on his first ever trail ride and acted like a total pro. Ellie came out to visit with us. She got to be in the Cuna photoshoot and she did the first ever proper pictures of Courage.




Courage got his own micklem bridle and he finally started to figure out this whole jumping thing.

November: 

We carried on, full speed ahead! We went on another trail ride with an exciting adventure. Courage started to really get this jumping thing down. He got clipped for the first time as a sporthorse and rocked out with his stars. We also had to work through some residual groundwork issues.

the best at lessons

We hit the lesson circuit hard at the end of the month.

legit cold lesson

December: It's been really quiet this month. We did get to ride one time. I talked about my past and why I make some of the choices I do in Amateur Hour. The boys are taking some well-deserved time off due to absolutely miserable weather that refuses to end.

love this

It's been a wild ride! This year went absolutely nothing like I planned or expected it to. Let's face it: I started the year working full time at a show barn with Cuna all set to move up and ended the year sans barn job but with two horses.