The restaurant is the converted stable area from the Biltmore Estate in Ashville, N.C.

I am constantly finding areas of the country where horses are a central part of the lifestyle and economy, but Tryon, N.C., may be the most horse-centric area I have seen yet. We visited this week as a scouting trip for possible relocation. Immediately saw something I have never seen before. Went to the local supermarket for munchies supply and the first thing we saw by the cashiers was a stack of 50-pound bags of feed.  They were from a local feed mill, priced at $9.95. Of course I had to check out the nutrition label, which looked ok.

I checked out the labels on the grocery-store feed. It looked good.

Visited Biltmore estate in Ashville on Sunday, built in 1895 by William Vanderbilt, and the largest home in the US. The restaurant is in the converted stable area. We ate in a (beautifully refurbished) box stall. Later we got a fabulous view of the back of the estate by taking a carriage ride, courtesy of Shire draft horses Doc and Pat.

We had a tour of the estate, courtesy of Shire draft horses Doc and Pat.

A couple new students started with me recently whose main concern was how to ride some of the new movements in tests they had entered for an upcoming show.  The first thing I pointed out was that there’s a difference between a new pattern (like a turn from B to E) and a new movement, like a trot lengthening.  You don’t enter the show and then start to learn a new movement – that’s a process of training that should take place over weeks/months, not days.  Depending on your learning curve, you may be able to pick up a new pattern just by reading it or by riding it once in a ring.

I’ve always been good at this test-learning stuff.  I can read the most illogical-sounding pattern and picture it in the ring right away, and I don’t have a particularly good sense of space or dimension, which is a much bigger problem going down to a jump! In 40 years of riding and showing dressage, I’ve almost never had a standard marked arena for practice, even for freestyles – I just go to the shows and ride the test. It always rather tickles me when I read online when people need elaborate methods and devices to learn a new test, although of course we all have different learning capabilities.

Picturing the pattern in one’s mind and actually remembering the test are two completely different things.  Lendon Gray is famously known for riding seven different horses – 14 different tests – a day at a show, never using a reader and never going off course.  I asked her once how she did it.  One insight she gave is that she doesn’t consider accuracy to be so a matter of a specific pattern in a rectangular space as it is doing a specific thing at a specific place.  Therefore you can practice the same halt you’d do in the ring in the middle of an open field.  Pick out a rock or a fence post and aim your halt for that rock or post the same way you’d aim your halt at X in the ring.  Sounds simple, and I guess it is, but it’s also more complicated, especially in the ring with all those corners getting in the way.

Two of the big keys I try to give people to help ride their tests concern half-halts and their inside shoulder.  If you lead with your inside shoulder on a curve or corner, you fall into the curve and lose balance.  If you bring your inside shoulder back, the turn takes care of itself.  Therefore, with that turn across the ring from B to E, it’s just right shoulder back to turn at B and then left shoulder back to turn at E, or vice versa.  Simple as that.

The other big key is something that Robert Dover has been famously quoted:  Dressage tests should be ridden half-halt to half-halt.  It doesn’t matter so much at the lower levels where the patterns are relatively uncomplicated, but you can’t get through an upper-level test without carefully planning all the half-halts.  In fact, one way to memorize a test is to think it through with just the half-halts and not the actual patterns, because if the half-halts are in the right place the patterns will pretty much happen on their own.

I think this is particularly true for the eventing dressage tests, which are fairly complicated patterns even at the lower levels, and they are ridden in the smaller 20×40 arena.  If you know where your half-halts are so you can plan ahead for all the turns, and you keep your inside shoulder back, the tests ride much more smoothly than if you wait until the last possible moment and then just haul on the inside rein.

I judged this weekend at Maplewood Warmbloods in NY which was a 90-minute drive from my home and a 50-year trip back in time for me.  It’s just outside of Goshen NY, which was the former location of The Hamiltonian, the premiere trotting race in the U.S. and a setting in Marguerite Henry’s “Born to Trot.”  Of course, I read everything that Henry ever wrote, and I vividly remember the story of the trotter Rosalind (presumably named for a Shakespeare line: “as high as my heart.”).

I’ve driven through the area before but only at night.  This time I got a good look at this beautiful town (pop. 5,000) as I drove through at 7 a.m. on Saturday morning.  There was the historic track tucked in behind some buildings just off Main Street.  I was so excited to see it and disappointed that I didn’t have time to stop for a really good look.

So, I was a bit sad to learn, after I got home and looked up info on Goshen online, that the old track I spotted wasn’t the site of the Hamiltonian, although it is a very historic site in U.S. racing lore.  A meet is still held there once a year for a week, making it the oldest track in continuous use in the country.  The site of the Hamiltonian, which left town 30 years earlier, is now the Meadowlands in NJ where the race is now a single heat, not multiple heats as it was in Henry’s book. (Coincidently, the 2011 version was held this past Saturday.)  The old track where the Hambo was staged in Goshen was torn down decades ago.  I didn’t realize I was driving over a portion of the track as I went down Route 17 outside of town.

The name of “Goshen” has always stuck in my mind, not because it’s a mild oath (land o’ Goshen!) based on a Biblical reference but because of Henry’s book.  I was hugely impressed when my college English professor (the memorable Dr. Pope at Mills College) mentioned once that she was from Goshen.  She was flabbergasted that I’d heard of the small town until I told her that I knew it was the site of the Hambo.

I think it’s really too bad that harness races aren’t followed as widely as they once were.  I used to love to go to Brandywine Raceway in Wilmington DE when I lived there in the ‘70s and, indeed, it was the site of the first date I had with my husband-to-be.  (He bet on a hunch for the first race, won big, and the rest for us has been, as they say, history.)

Lendon Gray has been standing (riding?) a soapbox over several decades as an advocate of ponies in dressage, not just ponies for kids but also for smaller adults.  While progress in dressage comes more slowly than in just about any aspect of our lives, any move toward greater interest in dressage ponies for kids in this country has been downright glacial.  Yes — mostly because of Lendon — there are more kids riding ponies at upper levels now, not just at First Level and below, but there aren’t many of them.

Lendon was at the NAJYRC this week coaching several kids and also writing a commentary in dressage-news.com.  She made an observation there that really caught my eye, about how the few kids who’ve shown in the FEI Pony division in recent years are now highly successful riding full-sized horses, possibly because the Pony tests are so challenging.  Her strongest case in point is Isabelle Leibler who was showing in the Pony Division just last year and won both the individual gold and the freestyle competition in the Young Rider Division in Kentucky last week at the youngest possible age of eligibility.  Basically Isabelle just skipped right over Juniors. Granted, Isabelle has been a very motivated rider since an early age and who was the overall high score champion at the Youth Dressage Festival in 2004 – if you can count on your fingers, she was all of 9 years old then! Isabelle’s mother Renee showed hunters, but Isabelle was intrigued by dressage and made the turn in that direction herself.

Lendon raised the question about why so many of the adult dressage riders she coaches have kids who show ponies in hunters but not in dressage.  My own answer to that, at least in regard to the FEI Pony Division, is that those FEI Pony tests are amazingly difficult, if not downright mean.  They are the equivalent of a hard Third Level test – think Third Level Test 4 without flying changes.  For starters, there is a six-loop serpentine.  Good thing they’re riding ponies with that sucker. Just thinking about a six-loop canter serpentine on a 17hh warmblood makes my head ache.

At the Youth Dressage Festival, there is a schooling show on Friday before the real competition starts, and we get to talk to the riders after the tests.  During the Friday schooling show last month, I noticed that riders doing Third Level tests all were struggling with the half passes.  Since we can talk to them afterward, I made the usual observation about a half pass, that it should be ridden like a travers (aka haunches-in) on a diagonal, which makes it much easier for both horse and rider, with a lot less contortion of the rider’s body.  The next day, I also noticed that few of the 20 riders competing in Second Level Test 2 understood how to ride a travers, a required movement there.  You can’t be successful at Third Level, or in the Pony Tests, without a thorough understanding of Second Level, and that darned travers at Second 2 is a real moment of truth.

Really, there aren’t many adult riders working their way up the levels who make it to Third Level in the limited time a pony rider would have until he/she ages out of the division or simply gets too tall.  I’ve seen more than one rider in the Pony Division who looks like roller skates would be a better attachment to their boots than spurs. In Europe, there are trainers producing lovely advanced dressage ponies and then matching them up with talented riders, but that just isn’t happening yet here.

On the really positive side, any child who finds success riding these challenging Pony Division tests will have a fabulous foundation for their future in dressage

At a certain point in life, you have to decide what to do with the trophies and ribbons that have been piling up over years of showing, just like you have to periodically clean out closets and the garage.  I have a friend who’s consolidating space now, just like I am.  I advised her to get a dumpster, like we have sitting in our driveway.  It’s liberating just to toss stuff after you figure out what to sell, give away and donate.

My friend, a top-level competitor for decades, emailed me for some thoughts on what she could do with all the silver stuff that has gathered in her basement over the years, various plates and cups and bowls.  She has some beautiful trophies in the form of sculptures that are upstairs in her living and dining rooms, but there are stacks of old silver in the basement.  I didn’t have any great ideas, except to maybe sell anything sterling by weight.

Silver has fallen out of favor for trophies, except still in the case of major challenge trophies, but even there we see it a lot less than we used to.  But, back when I started showing in the late ‘60s, you might get a small silver plate for winning any class at your local schooling show.  There was a time in my life when I desperately coveted one of those small engraved plates, and then there was another period when I struggled to find uses for them and to keep them clean.

Schooling shows eventually stopped giving prizes, and so do most recognized shows now.  Those that give prizes are likely to give some interesting and useful object, like a grooming bag.  I recall one recognized show a few years ago that skipped ribbons altogether and gave out embroidered hand towels in the appropriate colors.  The competitors loved them and kept coming back to swap out the colors they won for something closer to their own barn colors, such as handing back a blue towel and taking a green one.

Part of my own purge a couple weeks ago was to toss out all my ribbons.  I was sad for just a brief moment but, really, the memories mean more to me than the ribbons.  When I get back in the ring next year I’ll start a new collection.  It’s also hard to keep around a lot of ribbons and trophies, including wall plaques, when you board and don’t have your own tack room.  A photo of you and your horse wearing the ribbon is a lot more meaningful and takes up a lot less space.

I still haven’t quite recovered from Lendon Gray’s Youth Dressage Festival last weekend, and now I’m headed off to judge at King Oak in Southampton MA.  The emails were flying on Monday after the Festival.  Everyone on the committee seemed really pleased – everything seemed to run so smoothly, with only a few little fires to put out.  This is a large, active committee and a large group of wonderful volunteers, because the show is so unusual and complicated to stage.  But imagine!  300 kids all doing dressage in a special setting and format (dressage test, equitation class and written test, plus lots of fun and educational activities).  The show isn’t recognized by any organization, because our rules just don’t conform – although we use USEF rules wherever we can – and sometimes we’re making adjustments on the spot.

One great thing about the show is all the interaction between the judges and the kids, well, interaction between everyone including the organizers, the families, coaches, venders, everyone!  That just doesn’t happen at a USEF show, where judges aren’t supposed to discuss anything with a competitor that might constitute “coaching.”  (They can still talk to each other, though, and should!)  I loved it whenever a child came up to me and said she’d earned her qualifying score at a show where I’d judged and now here she was at the Festival.  My favorite was Emma Rose Strom of Stanford CT who entered the Intro W/T/C  11 and under division.  Emma Rose is usually a hunter rider.  She did the schooling show on Friday and her pony went out of the ring three times.  She regrouped and came back on Saturday and won her division.  Her parents were also thrilled with her prize, a gift certificate for a new Charles Owen helmet  (the show has absolutely wonder sponsors!)

I got a good laugh before on Friday on my way to the show.  I stopped off at Mrs. Green’s because they have the freshest produce around in my area and I needed really fresh carrots with green tops for the Dressage Trail class on Sunday.  I told the cashier to please place them carefully in the bag so the tops wouldn’t get broken.  She remarked that some “wild woman” screeched at her the previous summer about not breaking off the tops and that she thought of that woman every time someone bought carrots.  I sheepishly said that woman was me – last year she snapped off all the tops when she put them in the bag!  I had to run back and get more carrots.  Anyway, we had a good laugh and all was forgiven when I explained that we NEEDED the tops for a special horse show for kids.

This is a shout out to Molly, who told me this weekend that she reads my blog every week and had to go searching for it when we switched over from MyHorse to EquiSearch.  Molly said I was brave to report my weight loss goals – and I’ve got to get back to that after backsliding this spring when I decided not to show!

I am in my annual countdown toward Lendon Gray’s Youth Dressage Festival, which will be held this weekend in Saugerties NY.  There will be over 300 kids.  It’s a huge undertaking and an unusual format: Dressage test, equitation test and written test, all counting equally.  On Friday, there are practice classes and the written test.  On Saturday are the dressage and equitation tests.  On Sunday, there are awards and special classes, including a musical freestyle, prix caprilli (dressage test with jumps), dressage trail (dressage test with obstacles), and a stable management challenge.

In addition to helping out with judging, I’m on the committee and have a variety of responsibilities, including the program and setting up the trail class.  This year I’m also helping to organize the special demonstration held before the Saturday night dinner.  New this year, we’re having classes for sport horse handlers, so for the Saturday demo we’re featuring a parade of breeds.  I’ve always been aware that there was a terrific variety of breeds at this show, but choosing breed representatives from the horses entered made me realize there are even more than I suspected.  Of course, in dressage the type of breed doesn’t matter – it’s the performance that counts.  With kids involved, you’re going to see lots of pony breeds plus breeds that traditionally have smaller horses.  We also see a lot of older horses, and it’s great that these equine senior citizens are there to bring along the younger generation of riders.

I did a count of breeds in the 2010 show before we knew all the entries for this year.  There were 31 breeds listed, not counting all the cross-breds.  Among the pony and smaller horse breeds were:  Arab, Chincoteague, Connemara, Dutch Pony, Exmoor, German Riding Pony, Haflinger, Morgan. Newfoundland Pony, POA, Quarter Horse and Welsh!  Of course, some of the “bigger” horse breeds come in smaller versions as well.  As part of the breed parade, we’re going to line up representatives from 10 different breeds and then let the viewers try to guess the actual breeds before we announce them.  Should be fun and, I hope, really interesting.

The latest purge in my effort to pare down my belongings is my stack of magazines.  Make that stacks!  With an exclamation point, like the names of Broadway musicals such as like “Oklahoma!” or “Hello Dolly!” or “Oliver!”.  I’m never going to read an article in a magazine that is four years old.  And catalogs!  I’m certainly not going to order a blanket or helmet from a catalog that has lived in my house longer than my cat.  And, I’m having trouble finding paper bags to stuff the magazines and catalogs for the recyclers – but that problem will be solved when I’m ready to give up my collection of paper bags stashed in the gift wrap closet, which would mean sorting out the collection of gift wrap . . . you get the picture.  The thought is ominous, and in my mind the theme song from “Jaws” emanates from the gift-wrap closet any time I pass nearby, but that day is coming.  Soon!

All of which made me consider my collection of back issues from the “Horse Journal.”  I have them all, dating from the first issue in February 1994.  I’ve keep them in binders since the beginning, at first because I used them for reference and then because it gave me a sense of satisfaction to have the entire set.  But, really, I don’t need anything for reference now that predates the turn of the millennium, and I really don’t need more old magazines.  The solution is that the new owners of “Horse Journal,” Active Interest Media, which purchased us last year, would like the back issues, so they’re being shipped off to Colorado.

First, however, a monochromatic trip down memory lane for me: We didn’t start using spot color and then full color until 2008. Back in 2004, to acknowledge our first full decade of publishing, we did a summary of products that had always been consistent performers in our product surveys since the early ‘90s and also noted trends.  It seems strange that it wasn’t all that long ago when we first heard the word “nutraceutical,” much less learned how to spell it. We first heard about West Nile in 1999.  We didn’t ride in half chaps much in the mid-‘90s, and we didn’t have zippers in our boots.  We didn’t use fly sheets for turnout.  We didn’t know horses got ulcers. We didn’t know anything about the internet!!

The internet has pretty much changed the way we do everything, which also means another reference stalwart, our 20-volume “Encyclopedia Britannica,” is going to have to find a new home.  But, I’m keeping my “Oxford English Dictionary,” even if it does require a magnifying glass to read the type.

I lost my boots two days ago.  Not bell boots or sport boots, not muck boots, but my tall black boots, the ones I use for showing.  First I was aghast, then I was agog.  How could such a thing happen?!

Easily, I guess.  My horse and house life have been turned upside down since we started preparing to move – not just move but downsizing into retirement mode.  This means sorting through stuff that we’ve carried with us from move to move for 40 years, most of the time the house (and storage space) getting a little larger and dust-covered boxes getting swallowed up.  I started out several decades ago with a farm and five horses.  Through a bunch of moves, I always planned to have a farm again, so I kept most all the farm stuff I could, plus supplies like wraps and blankets, for a small herd. We’ve given up the farm plan now (anyone want to buy 12 acres near the Potomac in West Virginia?) and are heading for a townhouse with one horse boarded nearby.

This means, in addition to sorting through my closets, that I’m also sorting through my garage, attic, basement, closets, loft at the barn and horse trailer for all my horse stuff and then deciding what I need to keep for my one mare.  Everything goes into one of four categories:  Keep, Toss, Give Away, or Sell.  Toss is the easiest, Sell the hardest (obviously I need to learn eBay).  Give Away means new clean stuff (most leftover from “Horse Journal” product surveys or purchased on sale to stash for “someday”) goes to my local dressage association for their yearly silent auction, and the clean, serviceable used stuff goes to friends who can find a place for them.

I just gave a box of “metal” to my trainer, and looking through it was a trip down memory lane – which bit worked for which horse over the last 40 years, although I’m down to one double-jointed loose-ring snaffle that came with a horse I purchased two horses back and haven’t needed to change.  My two double-bridle bits came from my trainer’s own box of “metal,” and they’ve worked great, so I didn’t need to purchase any.   Some of the stuff in my own box of metal looked really weird – what was I thinking 30 years ago?!  Guess I’ve finally learned that simpler is better.

The Keep category is being sorted into sub-categories: Stays at the barn; Stays at home within easy reach; Stays at home for now but may go into storage.  I decided to put all my show stuff, including overnight things like a fan and stall guard, into one box that would be ready to go next year without more searching and sorting.  That’s when I went looking for my boots.  They weren’t in my closet, as expected.  Yes, there were three pairs of boots in there, but not the ones I wanted.

I’ve always been “boot-challenged.”  I bought a pair of customs in the mid-‘90s but could never get into them (the usual scene of screaming agony).  With a show coming up, I bought an emergency pair off the rack that slid right on, and those have been the “go-to” boots ever since, sort of expanding and contracting with me as I have changed sizes.  I ride in half-chaps most of the time, but a week before any show or clinic, I start wearing the tall boots again to re-check stirrup length, spur placement and timing of leg aids.  So, I haven’t worn them out.

I tried again last year for a sleeker pair, but right afterward I broke my leg.  Three months later, the only tall boots I could get on were my old-faithfuls, and it was still the case this spring  (Anyone want to buy a pair of unused Cavallos and a pair of unused Ariats, size 9?) The other pair of boots in my closet were left over from a product survey in the ‘90s, but they were a funky style with zippers in the front.  They should have found another home a long time ago.   There was an old pair of paddocks and some Bean gum shoes, but my “old faithfuls” were gone.

I slowly reconstructed my life over the last two months, including a move to a new barn, to figure out where they could be.  Could they be behind the door in the new tackroom? In the loft with my travel saddle rack? The last time I wore them was in April as I was preparing for a show, which I had to pull  out of at the last minute.  In my mind I could picture them in front of my saddle rack in the old barn.  I drove by there yesterday afternoon, and there they were, back in a dusty corner.  I guess I’d set them aside when I picked up my saddle rack for the move and forgot to go back.

I might never have seen those boots again if I hadn’t been packing a special box for show stuff.  I would have assumed that they were in my closet where they belonged.  Next spring I would have been in the same last-minute panic as last year when I couldn’t find my show helmet the night before a show (I had my trainer’s tiny helmet, and I have no idea where my own show helmet was – fortunately I had a “stashed” new helmet)

There’s still a bunch of stuff strewn in small piles around the garage, but I’m almost to the point where I know every bit of horse equipment I own, with everything clean, repaired and stored where I can find it.  I even have a list taped on each box of the contents and another master list in the computer.  As they say in the ad — Priceless.

I had a particularly interesting time judging a young-horse class at the Memorial Day show run by ESDCTA in New Jersey a couple weeks ago.  I was paired with Peter Holler, an FEI-I judge from Germany and one Europe’s top judges of young horses.  I might judge 60 “young horses” in a year while he’ll do 60 in a day at a championship.  So, I was very intrigued to be working with him for this class.

The show held a young-horse test-of-choice class each day, with a mixture of 4-, 5- and 6-year-olds.  There was a different two-judge panel each day.  There is a clear emphasis in this class toward the quality of the horse’s balance, and this is placed in the box under submission – in other words the horse’s ability and willingness for self-carriage, even at a early stage in his training.  In watching horse after horse with Holler, I began to pay even more attention than usual to self-carriage.

Each of the age groups uses a different test, equivalent to an “easy” First Level test for the 4-year-olds, a “hard” First Level test for the 5-year-olds and a “hard” Third Level test for the 6-year-olds.  The 4-year-old test used in the U.S. is actually our familiar old First 1, just in reverse (turn right at C rather than left), so it includes trot lengthenings.  Holler was looking for a real lengthening here, with clear ability to bend the joints in the hindquarters, not just the “quickening” that we often see at First Level.

After judging this young-horse class in the morning, I spent much of the afternoon judging a regular First Level class. I had a lot of food for thought in the trot lengthenings as I watched horses more advanced in their training but often without some of the natural ability shown by those in the young-horse class.  There are so many factors involved, not the least of which is the quality of riding and the ability of riders to properly prepare their horses to lengthen in the preceding corner.  It wasn’t always a lack of talent in the horse that resulted in a low score for the lengthening but more the help that the rider gave the horse.

The young-horse classes are judged in a completely different manner than regular tests even though the rider is performing what looks like a regular test.  What the judge is looking for is “potential,” what the horse can do in the future, as opposed to what he’s doing “right now.” Baby horse stuff, like some tension and shying, is generally ignored.  The score sheet is very different, with only five boxes for Trot, Walk, Canter, Submissiveness and General Impression (potential as dressage horse).  A judge gives the scores and brief comments immediately after the test, so that the rider knows immediately how they’ve done.

These classes aim to identify special young horses, those that may have a clear future to perform with brilliance at the FEI levels.  They’re mostly held in the spring so that the horses can qualify for championships held in the summer. They usually have two (or even three!) judges sitting together and deciding the five scores as they discuss the ride.  Then one of the judges gives the commentary.  If the judges don’t agree on something and have strong feelings about it, the discussion can be very lively even though they also have to quickly agree on a score.

The moving mash goes on.  A couple weeks ago it was the pictures on the walls. This week, it was getting a start on sorting photographs, which went slowly because of several detours down Memory Lane.  One tiny black and white photo unearthed was of my father, age 10, on his pony Marrylegs – that’s the writing and spelling of his mother on the back of the photo.  It would have been taken around 1920. I doubt she ever saw the wonderful book “Merrylegs” by Paul Brown, about a grey rocking horse, one of my own childhood favorites, or read “Black Beauty,” who had a pony pal by the same name.

Anyway, my dad used to tell me that he rode 7 miles to school every day on his pony, and here was proof.  He’s barebacked, barefooted and bareheaded, the perfect picture of a farm boy in a remote corner of Eastern Oregon.  Another photo shows Marrylegs being ridden by three of his brothers, while Dad and a pal are sitting on a horse.  Dad told me his great sense of direction came from riding to school across country where there weren’t any roads, and looking at this photo and the terrain it’s easy to believe.

I have a lousy sense of direction, made worse because I grew up in Oregon but now live in NY, so the ocean is simply on the wrong side.  It’s remained on the wrong side even though I’ve lived in the East for over 40 years now.  Dad proved his great sense of direction once when I got horribly lost in the farmland of Chester County PA leaving the steeplechase races at Fair Hill MD, beautiful lush farmland but not exactly a remote area.  I thought the races would be fun for him, since he’d never seen anything like that back home in Portland.  Anyway, we’d been driving for an hour and I just couldn’t figure out where we were, while he kept discretely silent about it.  Finally, he told me the way to turn.  I asked him how he knew, and he asked, “We have to go west, right?” “Yes,” I answered, “but, how do you know which way is west?”  “Because the sun is over there.”  Dad said he could never have found his school on his pony if he didn’t know where the sun was and thus could tell west from east.

Oh! duh!  All those years of me of getting lost!  You don’t learn important things like that growing up in a city.

One of my favorite recent reads is “The Heart of Horses,” by Molly Gloss, set in Eastern Oregon during World War I, exactly the period and area where this tiny picture of my father was taken.  When I read it, I felt I was learning a lot more about his life growing up, but it’s a marvelous story on its own.

This definitely comes in the “get back on the horse after a fall” category, but I didn’t realize it until I drove my trailer yesterday, for the first time since my accident last summer when unloading a horse at a show.  I was surprised to find myself over-thinking everything and hyperaware, even just hauling my stuff to a new barn within 5 minutes of the old barn.  Fortunately my friend Jessie showed up before the second trip and the part that should have really made me nervous, loading and unloading the actual horse.  She took over and I became the grateful assistant.

Maybe I should have paid attention to the fact that I needed to do some trailer repairs and some retro-fitting of the breast bar, but the trailer sat still for months at the end of the barn.  It was so full of storage items, that it just seemed too much bother to get it out and worked on. The tongue wheel had settled into the ground so much that I had trouble getting it high enough for my hitch, never a good sign.   Repairing a steel horse trailer around here is nearly impossible – all the shops I called just do aluminum horse trailers.  I’m going to have to take it to a regular trailer repair place, not a horse trailer specialist, and I haven’t made the calls to figure it out.

Sometimes – usually at some sort of horsey dinner, when we’re all telling war stories – we rather gleefully recall accounts of trailer incidents, at least the ones where no one gets hurt.  I had one 25 years ago (is it really 25 years?!) where the receiver on my Reese hitch came out as I was going about 55 mph downhill on I-95 south of DC.  We figured out later that the cotter pin had slipped off the hitch pin, and the only thing holding the trailer to my SUV was the chains.  Now, a quarter century later, I still get white knuckles when I feel the trailer sway even just a bit.

I think I’ll get over my panic when I finally get the repairs done and the storage stuff where it needs to be, so I can do some remedial loading/unloading lessons for both myself and my horse.  More than one person has told me that I don’t drive my trailer enough anymore to make it worth the cost and trouble, but I’m not yet willing to give it up.  I still recall the wonderful feeling of freedom I had 35 years ago (35 years?!) when I bought my first trailer and knew I could go anywhere I wanted with my horse, any time I wanted to do so.

So, how many of us have an old photograph on a wall that just wouldn’t be there now in this digital age?  How many of the great photos that we take of our horses, not to mention our family members, just never get out of the computer anymore?

My husband and I were logging the pictures on our walls this week, since we plan to move and will need to consolidate.  We have lots of lovely horse-related art, but some of it is large and may not make the cut.  In my office, I have a wall of horse art, including hunting prints, an Olympic poster from Atlanta, a Hans Erni lithograph, a C.W. Anderson, and a small framed photo that my husband took 32 years ago next week.

That picture was taken with film, of course.  We didn’t even imagine digital photography back then.  I don’t even think we could find the negative now, and I’d like to because it’s starting to fade a bit.  I’d reproduce it here, but my technical capabilities also don’t work in reverse. Scan something? Yeah, right.  I’m sorta afraid when we unplug this computer that the photos will be lost for good.  I know it doesn’t work that way, but I don’t have a digital mind.  I never really conquered the 20th Century. must less the 21st, which may explain why I still prefer horses over motorized vehicles.

The photo is of a 2-day foal.  Junior’s stud fee was a very special wedding gift from my utterly non-horsey mother-in-law, and he grew up to earn me my USDF silver medal, but back then he was simply fun to watch.  And photograph.  No computer magic here, no cropping or changing the contrast – the picture is simply my husband’s good eye for composition.  The black mare’s head and legs frame the background as she eats grass.  Junior’s long legs stretch across the middle as he snoozes.  Centered in the foreground is our black lab puppy, who is transfixed with the newcomer.

If that picture was taken now, it would probably be the wallpaper on my computer screen, but I doubt it would make it onto an actual wall, because almost nothing we’ve shot over the last decade has ended up in paper form unless you count copies of the “Horse Journal.”  The only paper print I have of the mare I’ve owned for seven years was taken by a show photographer.  This is one of those retirement projects I think about, learning about the photo print function on my printer and actually starting an album.  How retro!

I mentioned in a past blog that a key moment in the new tests is in First Level Test 3, where the rider has to leg-yield in the trot to the right from the corner letter at K across the ring to X.  In order to do so, she has to pretty much counter-bend in the corner before K, so that she can half-halt on the right rein (the new outside rein) before starting sideways.  If she wimps out on that half-halt, then she’s not likely to get the leg-yield, or the figure 8 at X that follows, or the leg-yield back to the long side that follows the figure 8. If she rides that half-halt with conviction, she’s made a good start that should carry her through all three movements, but that half-halt at K is not for the faint of heart.

As I watch more riders struggle with this sequence at First 3, and coach more riders myself, I’m finding that change of bend before K is even more of a key to success in this test than I first suspected. The rider is tracking to the right in the corner.  First, she has to widen her left hand away from the withers to create a bulge on the right side of the neck where she can place the rein.  (In order to have an outside rein, you first have to have an inside rein).  Then she half-halts on that right rein, which straightens and re-balances the horse, making it much easier for him to go sideways to the right when she activates her left leg to signal the leg-yield.

What I’m learning as I watch riders struggle with this change of bend and half-halt is that a lot of people just don’t have a solid grasp of how to half-halt and how important it is to the horse.  The outside rein is like a security blanket to the horse, and without the half-halt there he feels abandoned in a way.  If you activate the opposite heel without the half-halt to re-establish his balance, he won’t feel comfortable going sideways.  If he goes sideways at all, it will be like a stiff board nose-to-tail, without any bend under the rider’s inside leg and thus no suppleness.  The leg-yield in First Level Test 2 that goes from the center line to the long side is a chip shot by comparison because the rail has a rather “magnetic” effect to the horse, who will naturally drift that way on his own with any small incentive from the rider.  It’s much harder to convince the horse to leg-yield away from the rail.

I know a lot of people are going to feel especially challenged by this sequence of movements in First 3, but if they figure it out, this will help their training carry forward in other areas because they’ll have finally  learned the sequence of subtle adjustments of an effective half-halt and make it a tool they can use any time they wish.

Yesterday, I swapped my stack of filthy winter blankets for one slender fly sheet.  The blanket rack looks like it’s been on a crash diet.  But, now that stack of mad-encrusted fabric is giving me heart palpitations:  I miss my front-loading washing machine!

My front loader died over the winter. We’re planning to move soon, so I replaced it with a top-loader that cost half as much since we may need to leave the washer behind.  The other reason I hesitated to buy another front-loader is that the last one survived for only 4 years.

In good Horse Journal-fashion, when I bought that front-loader I researched all the possibilities, and I talked to horse folks I know who have front-loaders in their tackrooms.  Everyone agreed that front-loaders are fabulous for horse laundry.  For one thing, you can do heavy blankets in them and not sneak into the coin-op laundry lugging trash bags full of blankets or pay a specialist to do your blankets.  The research I did said that the higher cost of the front-loader (typically double that of a top-loader) would be offset by lower water costs, lower energy costs, less detergent needs, less wear-and-tear on your clothes, etc., and the difference would be made up in about 4 years.

That turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, with hard rubber bits being thrown all over my laundry room at exactly the 4-year point quadrennial, timed like the Olympics and presidential elections.  It would have cost more to repair than replace (sign of our times?), so out it went.  I quickly realized how much I’d come to depend on it when I found myself stocking up on detergent again and sorting out much smaller loads.

Did the fact that I did winter blankets in the front loader and five felt saddle pads at once lead to its early demise?  I don’t know.  It was touted to be able to handle the strain.  All I know now is that when we move, a new front-loader will be in the budget.  And I need to find someone to wash my winter blankets.  Darn it.

I started my journalism career as a features and entertainment editor and spent 10 years supporting myself and my horse habit writing entertainment stories and reviewing movies and plays, before I morphed into equestrian journalism.  So, I was on doubly familiar territory when I went to see “War Horse” last week at NYC’s Lincoln Center.

This was the annual Day in the City, a present the committee members of the Youth Dressage Festival give ourselves every spring.  I prepared for the outing by finding the original Young Adult book of “War Horse,” by Michael Morporgo, at the library.  Spoiler Alert —  I went straight to the back of the book, because I just didn’t want to see a play about horses that had a sad ending.  Reassured, I bought tickets.

“War Horse” has been a huge success on the London stage and has just been imported to the U.S.  In the meantime, Steven Spielberg has done a feature film, due to be released at Christmas.  I don’t think I’m going to want to see the movie – the play is stylized enough to remove the horror of the story, set in World War I, and allow the viewer to enjoy the interaction between the amazing puppet horses and the humans.  I’m afraid that a live-action film will make the war part of the story just too real.

The script of the play isn’t so great but, having said that, the production of “War Horse” may be the best theater experience I’ve had.  It was certainly the most engrossing, and the reason is the amazing puppets that have been created to portray the horses.  You can see them on You Tube videos.  Just calling them puppets isn’t quite right.  They are stylized horses, beautifully nuanced, actually larger than life so that they always dominate the stage action.  Just a flick of an ear, a flash of an eye or a shiver of skin expresses their feelings, although they move around the stage beautifully as well.  And, they’re quiet – how often have you seen a TV show or movie where the horses are always neighing, mostly at times when horses just don’t neigh?

I sat on the edge of my seat through the entire production and, yes, cried at the end.  The next morning I was watching my mare moving around and comparing her to wonderful puppets I’d seen the day before.  Yep, I thought, they got it right.

“War Horse” will be playing at Lincoln Center for two years and is sure to go on tour.  See it.

All riders have their own specific aches and pains.  Mine are leg cramps, which I’ve battled for as long as I can remember. (And, yes, I eat lots of bananas.) If I’ve had a particularly busy day at the barn, I might get a leg cramp later when I curl my legs into a chair, or wake up in the middle of the night shrieking – making no effort at all to keep from waking my husband.  Often I’ll get a cramp while mounting when I lift my right leg into the stirrup.

I had a rough night last night and was reminded that this is the count up to my first show this year.  I did more sitting trot than usual and then went to the gym, where I did a Pilates class.  After spending a week at the Outer Banks, with lots of walking but no riding, I’ve been trying to play catch up with my exercise, and I paid for it with cramps so bad I couldn’t even walk them off.  It was a long night – my Corgi later threw up under the bed (any Corgi owner will relate, because Corgis will eat anything) and finally my alarm went off two hours early, maybe a subconscious preparation for getting up before 4 a.m. on show day.  I kept trying to get back to sleep by running through the dressage test in my mjind.  Hope I can remember the canter portion, because I was usually asleep again before I got to the pirouettes.

At shows, I used to get leg cramps during the free walk portion of my tests. I guess it was a buildup from the early hours, the temperature being too cold or too hot, the tension, the excitement.  And that particular horse had no go button at all and nearly always dropped a load at the start of the free walk.  The result was because I’d stopped kicking that I guess my legs responded by kicking all by themselves.  I’d drop my stirrups and do Lamaze pant/blows all the way across the diagonal, hoping against hope that the cramp would go away before I needed my stirrups back.

My barn manager made a couple of great suggestions that helped hugely.  She suggested a bran mash for my horse the night before a show, and sure enough that horse stopped lifting his tail during a test.  For myself, I was already taking ibuprophen ahead of time, and she suggested adding some sips of beer before I got on.  I don’t know if it was the extra fluid, or whether I just relaxed a bit more, but in the 20 years since then I haven’t had a leg cramp in an actual test.

The most interesting change in the 2011 USEF (and USDF) dressage tests is the score for the rider under the Collective Marks at the bottom of the test. (The other three Collective Marks are for Gaits, Impulsion and Submission.) Previously that score for the rider was one score with a coefficient of 3.  It has been changed to three separate boxes: one for Seat, one for Effect of Aids, and one for Harmony.  (The USDF Intro tests separate those three boxes a bit differently:  Seat, Effect of Aids, and Geometry/Accuracy.) This has been a constant source of discussion among judges since it went into effect in December for two main reasons:  We now have to give six scores plus comments in the brief amount of time we have between tests, where previously we gave four.  We also have to distinguish between the score for Submission, with emphasis on the horse, and the score for Harmony, with emphasis on the rider, although the two are clearly related.

Breaking the rider score down into three boxes is a very good idea because it gives the riders more bang for their buck, so to speak.  From the judge’s perspective, we’re glad to be able to provide more specific feedback.  However, we’re doing so the same (or less) space of time.  We have two minutes from the time one rider finishes their test at X until the next rider enters at A.  We have to determine the six Collective Marks, make comments on those marks, write a summary comment at the bottom of the test, check over the test for any problems, perhaps be a traffic cop if the two riders aren’t getting themselves in/out of the arena area in a timely manner, grab some water, etc.   If anything disrupts the flow of the time schedule, such as an error in the test or a discussion with the TD, the schedule gets even tighter.  The pace as a whole has picked up this year, since the tests overall are shorter and more tests can be set inside a standard 8-hour block of rides.  A few years ago, a normal day was 50 rides, but that’s now more like 60, meaning more of those sometimes-frantic 2-minute slots between rides.

The other interesting problem is that all the Collective Marks previously had a vocabulary of adjectives printed on the test, where the judge could quickly indicate a specific area of difficulty.  The three new boxes don’t have that vocabulary, so if judges want to make full use of those boxes, we have to write out comments, which takes more thought and more time.  The rule book specifies that any score of 6 or below on the test must have a comment, so writing that comment for the judge is not just a preference but an actual requirement.

Judges have been trading emails and discussing some shorthand comments that can be made quickly and clearly in those three rider boxes.  Here’s the list that I’ve been working on.  This came out of notes from the judge forum I attended last month and was tweaked by email buddies. This list is still very much a work in progress, just food for thought at this point.  I’m sure the discussion will continue:

SEAT: Posture – Ear, shoulder, hip, heel alignment.  No hollow back.  Alignment – Vertical in both dimensions.  Shoulders level.  Ribs in middle with no sagging on the sides. Stability – Firm seat, stable core, quiet hands/forearms. Elasticity – Elbows/arms, shoulders not stiff. Weight (especially in lateral movements) — Balanced with no leaning. Following the movements (Hands and seat at walk and canter).

USE OF AIDS: Subtle – Hands must not stop motion.  Do they assist in achieving the criteria/geometry? Effective – Do the half halts “work”? Correct Basics – Shown in the training of the horse:  Forward, straight, through, steady, elastic rein contact, possible connection appropriate for the level of the horse and the task at hand. Accuracy – Ring figures and transitions.

HARMONY: Fluency – A seamless test. Calmness – Relaxation, limbs swinging freely from top line. Willingness – No resistances such as head tossing, tail swatting. Trust – A solid relationship. Presentation – A pleasure to watch. Empathy – Tact in application of the aids. Teamwork.  Strong Foundation – Rider can ride both the test and the horse from the security of a stable position.

Am I alone in having a pair of breeches I love so much that I’ll mourn them when they finally fall apart?  I know guys will wear stuff like breeches so long that their wives will finally have to throw them out, because the guys won’t.  But, I’ve got a pair of breeches like that.

Last week I got a couple of compliments like:  Wow, you have lost weight.  Yep, a few inches are gone, but I think it’s more that we’re finally emerging from fluffy jackets and long fleece for the first time in five months and we all look a little more svelte.  And, these breeches have been so well loved that they’re getting thin at last and starting to actually look baggy.  I bought them off the sale rack of Elizabeth G at Dressage at Devon 15 years ago.  They’re a midweight navy synthetic fabric, warm in winter, cool in simmer, with corduroy full seats.  Absolutely nothing on them has worn out.  Not a single stitch anywhere has given way.  They’re just overall starting to give up.  I figure maybe two more years . . . .?  That’s if I don’t lose any more weight, but I’m still making progress in that department.  However, I have some smaller-size Elizabeth G breeches stashed away somewhere – something to look forward to.

Elizabeth G used to make semi-custom breeches that were priced below off-the-rack European breeches, but she retired several years ago.    I know I’m not the only one who misses her.  Besides the excellent materials and workmanship, she understood how to fit a woman’s body.  She actually had true high-rise breeches, something  hard to find even before the fashion world – or the teeny bopper segment of the fashion world – turned to pants slung below the belly button.  I’ve never understood the attraction of low-rise in general, but I really don’t get it in breeches.

Elizabeth had one quirk that bothered me – her basic model of breeches came without pockets, just that silly coin pocket sewn inside the waistband.  She insisted that pockets would interrupt the sleek look at the front, and you had to pay extra for slash pockets.  I suppose she was right, but gee, there are so many things we need to carry when we ride or work around the barn, not just maybe a soggy check for the trainer squished into that coin pocket.  Where do we put sugar cubes, gloves and, now, cell phone? – I bought these breeches way before cell phones.   A pair of breeches that fit well AND have real pockets – heaven.

Resolution Report:  Another pound this week.  Not working out so much due to fierce cold.  Still, progress.

Over the last couple weeks, I’ve observed that riders are finding some of the new tests harder than they anticipated, especially as I see more test rides in clinics and with my own students, not just at shows. The difference has been precipitated by the change from four tests down to three at Training, First and Second Levels, with each level more cohesive and less of a gradual transition when moving up. Even though the new tests are labeled 1 through 3 as usual, it’s as if the first test of the old levels was dropped.  If you’re comparing them to last year, think of the new tests as starting at Training 2, First 2 and Second 2.

I have one student preparing to show for the first time next month, but she’s going to enter Training 2 and 3 and skip Training 1, at least for the time being.  The tough question in Training 1 isn’t just the inclusion of the stretching circle at A but that a transition to working walk comes right after the return to regular rein contact at A, followed immediately by the turn onto the diagonal for the free walk.  The trick is to pick the reins back up while still in the last quarter of the stretching circle rather than waiting until A, or it might be hard to get the working walk to settle before starting the free walk.  While the patterns at Training 3 are a little more challenging, the test itself seems to flow more easily for a less-experienced rider.

There’s a similar challenging moment in First One.  Riders are now required to do canter lengthenings in that test.  The transition back to working canter can be gradual, from R to C for the second one, but then there is a transition to trot at C, followed immediately by a turn onto the diagonal and a trot lengthening.  It’s really too late to use the corner to bring the horse back from the canter lengthening if you want to get a balanced transition to trot and also then to the trot lengthening.    You pretty much need to return to working canter right at R or you’ll have a tough time with the two transitions that follow.  After the first canter lengthening, the rider goes all the way around the end of the ring and onto the diagonal, where the transition to trot is at X, which is much easier.  The test itself seems easier than before because posting is now optional at First Level, but the new patterns will require better attention to half halts.

The most interesting new question at First Level seems to be in First 3, where a change of bend to the left is required immediately after trotting to the right through the corner at K, followed immediately by a leg yield to X, then a 10-meter figure 8 and a leg yield back to the long side at H.  If the rider doesn’t get that change of bend and half halt on the right rein at K, the movements that follow could become a muddle.

Resolution Report:  Another pound this week, overall 11 pounds since I started in January. It was really satisfying to see the scale put down a different number in the middle, almost as if I’d lost 10 pounds this week rather than just one.  Starting to feel the difference in my clothes.  A nasty cold is keeping me from the gym, but I’m still riding, of course.

It’s pretty amazing looking out the window while flying across the country on a clear sunny day, like watching a huge topographical map spread out below.  As I was landing in Tucson last week, the landscape below looked perfectly flat, except when it wasn’t.  On the ground, the mountains in a dark backdrop looked like they’d been cut out by worn pinking shears, very jagged and pointed.  I wondered if their origin was volcanic and also what how much acreage of the sparse desert follage was needed per horse.

Flying back east, I stopped over in Dallas.  Looking out the window, there was more grass but it was still brown.  When we landed in Lexington, KY, everything was lush green and white four-board fencing, looking like a couple acres could support a dozen horses without needing hay.  All this means a very different approach to horsekeeping, of course. When I lived in California (in a past lifetime, it seems), we bought our hay in Idaho.  When we lived in Pennsylvania, we bought our hay next door, and we kept four horses in a two-acre paddock that still needed to be mowed.

I went to Lexington for the annual USEF dressage judge forum.  While we were there, it was announced that the USEF has decided to institute the use of half marks, following the lead of the FEI, which tested them out in 2010 and started using them in international competitions in January.  Canada has also started using half marks.

The proponents of half marks have argued that they will give more precise information to the riders and help the judges make a decision when between two numbers.  Those who’ve argued against half marks felt scores overall would go down, while preliminary indications from Europe have shown just the opposite.  Judges have long used phrases like “fat 6” or “skinny 7” when discussing a movement but used only whole marks in actual judging, except with freestyles and equitation classes.  Now they will be able to score 6.5 when thinking “fat 6.”  The delay in instituting the refined system until the new competition year, which starts December 2011, will allow show organizers to update their computer equipment.

The judges at the forum seemed eager to use half marks in their discussions, and the idea has been swirling around in my own mind for some time.  A dressage judge will give between 1,000 and 1,500 numbers and comments (or more) in a typical day of judging, so we have to spit out numbers very quickly and not linger over small details.  If I’m between numbers, it seems that I can say .5 faster than running through the pros and cons of fat and skinny.

In the tradition of obsessive DQs, this concept popped into my brain when I stepped onto the scale in the exercise room at the Lexington hotel.  It was a digital scale that gave pounds down to .10.  Talk about precise!  My scale at home gives me pounds to .5, and I thought that was pretty cool compared to the usual dial or counter-weight scales.  Then I started to think:  “Gee, if it registers .8 and this is a dressage score, would I take it back to a half mark of .5 or round it up to the next whole number?”  Obviously, I’m way over-thinking this.  Good thing that I have several months to practice half marks in my mind before I actually put them on paper

Resolution Report:  Another pound gone this week despite being on the road and not riding.  Feels good to be headed in the right direction

This is being written mid-way between Tucson and Lexington KY. I judged a show in Arizona over the weekend, and now I’m headed to Kentucky for a USEF dressage judge forum.

The dressage community in the U.S. is fierce about education for its judges, even after the extensive training programs we all have to do to get licensed in the first place. We’re all required to do a two-day forum at least once every three years, or we lose our license. Many judges go more often. I go every two years so I don’t take a chance on getting stuck the third year, plus I really enjoy comparing notes and thoughts with other judges. There’s a meeting for judges at the annual USDF convention, and a continuing education program for graduates of the “L” program that trains people to judge schooling shows. Local forums are also held locally in many areas each year.

Almost every time I judge, I have some sort of observer or apprentice judge. This weekend I had two, an apprentice for the “r” USEF license and an observer from the L program. It adds to the work I need to do when judging, because there’s paperwork involved (of course),and reduces the down time, but I think it’s important to be available to anyone training for a judge program. The overall goal is to have consistency with among judges from show to show and the judges using a similar vocabulary with their comments — if someone has the same quality ride at two different shows, the aim is that they have a similar score and similar comments.

The point standard is actually international, not just unique to the U.S. Presumably, a U.S. judge could go anywhere in the world and play in the same sandbox, whether in Europe, Asia or anywhere else. When we judge, every rider is measured against that same international standard, not against each other. With this point system, the placings take care of themselves. From a rider’s point of view, the color of the ribbon isn’t as important as the actual score — a green ribbon with a high score is better than a blue ribbon with a low score, because the rider should know his training is on the right track.

Anyway, after two days of looking at DVDs, and live horses, and talking about judging morning, noon and night, we’ll all be pretty bleary eyed. But it will be worth it, and we’ll feel energized about the year ahead.

Resolution Report: So far, so good on this trip. Lost a pound despite socializing in restaurants. Met my goal.

Since I judged in Gainesville FL last week, I’ve been thinking about the seemingly sudden new “look” for the FEI classes. At least half the FEI riders were wearing safety helmets or using snaffles or both. I came to feel that the usual top hat/double bridle standard at FEI levels actually looked retro. Snaffles have been “legal” at USEF shows (not FEI CDIs though) for a year now, and safety helmets have always been legal but not the usual attire. Both seem to have really caught on over the winter. I’m wondering if I’ll find the same situation in other parts of the country as I travel around this year. Safety helmets, of course, are now required at Fourth Level and below.

One oddity I noticed last week is that three riders I judged neglected to salute during their first halt. In the past I’ve seen this rarely, maybe once a season, including schooling shows. I rang the bell, informed them of the error, and made the two-point deduction. A couple of them said they didn’t know it was required to take their hand off the reins to salute – and one rider was just very nervous and forgot. This sort of blew my mind – these weren’t beginners or Training Level riders. How could they not know this is a very clear rule?

I realize some riders rely on their trainers and friends to help them with the rules, but this is always a mistake. The rider is alone in the ring – they need to know the rules cold to avoid costly errors, and no one can help them once they’ve entered at A. I also wonder where the trainer was when they were practicing their tests, and salutes, at home. Didn’t anyone notice that they weren’t following the usual procedure for a salute? Haven’t these riders seen other riders dropping their hand during the salute? The usual question I might get is whether it’s legal to salute with either hand (it is), not that they don’t have to drop the hand at all.

Stayed home this past week. Actually got to ride on the weekend but I was there by myself, because I got there so early, even with daylight saving time. The local orchard has cider donuts that come hot from the fryer at 9 a.m. If I ride early, I get the primo donuts to bring my family for breakfast. They’re still warm when I get home. This is the one big treat I’m still allowing myself during my resolve to better fit into my shadbelly by the first show on May 1.

Resolution Report: Yeah!. Back on track, despite the donuts. Another pound this week. Working out three times a week, plus riding (of course) and 2-3 hours a week of aerobics. Heading out now for six days of travel to Tucson and Lexington, so my good intentions will be tested. Already checked the hotels for fitness rooms that have weights.

Well, I blew it last week. Was doing taxes and didn’t look up long enough to realize the deadline for the blog had passed. I’m also marking the one-year anniversary of when I broke my leg (judging, not riding!), so I’m watching where I put my feet. Spring last year meant three months of sitting around, doing things like reading page proofs of “HJ” and mystery novels in a sunny window, but no riding. The groundhog was right – spring seems to be early, so I want to be riding in the sun this year, not sitting in the sun.

New Jersey seems to have its own spring prognosticators this year. There are reports that bears have come out of hibernation early. Now, I associate bears and NJ dressage shows in my mind. Why? Because the one time I’ve seen a bear outside a zoo or a national park was when we were driving to a show in Sussex County to braid at 6 a.m. A bear crossed the road right in front of us. I even got a picture. Memorable, to say the least.

I got a kick out of Cindy’s blog last week. She was talking about all the mud at this time of year and how horse people have to learn to love mud. I hate mud — isn’t that why God made turnout sheets? I’d much rather spend quality time currying my horse’s trace clip to help her with her itches and to hurry along the shedding than to be coughing up a cloud of dust from dried mud. Thank goodness Windy’s legs and neck are black and don’t show the dirt.

Last week I was judging in Gainesville FL, where they presumably have more alligators than bears. Didn’t see either, including U. of Florida Gators, the arch villains to my husband’s Georgia Bulldogs. Henry wanted me to wear a U. of Georgia hat while I was judging. I wanted to get out of Florida in one piece and left the hat at home.

While I’ve seen the DVD of the new dressage tests maybe a dozen times by now, this was my first time judging whole classes. The new tests ride beautifully in the DVD – those are also very accomplished riders on lovely horses. My feeling now, seeing the tests with a variety of riders and horses, is that these tests will be more challenging than the 2007 tests of comparable levels. Yes, posting is now allowed at First Level and some of the canter movements at Fourth Level have been dialed back, but overall the patterns are tougher and the movements come up more quickly. Riders will have to understand how to ride half halt to half halt, even at First Level.

I really like the tests and the questions they are asking of riders. I think, however, that some riders may want to step back a level, or a couple tests within a level, as they prepare for the early shows in 2011, and make sure they are comfortable with what they are asking of their horses in the show arena.

Resolution Report: Not so good. No progress over the last two weeks, but no backsliding either. Been working out more. Maybe no more mint Oreo cookies with my evening tea and “Jeopardy.”

(This is actually my blog from Feb. 18 — I’m just catching on to how to do this.)

I’ve never before sensed there was an in between stage clogging our efforts to emerge from winter. Yes, there’s a point where everything turns to mud, and there’s also that moment somewhere around Valentine’s Day here in NY where we turn a corner and there are consistent days above freezing on the 10-day forecast.

This new in between stage for me is the one where I hope the temperature will dip back well below freezing, at least at night, so that I can ride in peace and quiet. It’s the stage where there’s still snow on the roof on the indoor but just enough sun each day to slide only parts of it off at a time. If it gets cold enough at night, then the snow stays put during the early morning hours.

This year, we’ve had snow sliding for a couple weeks, not the usual couple days. Sometimes it sounds like a war film, or at least a Bruce Willis “Die Hard” movie. Our arena still has some of the stuff clinging to plastic skylight panels on the top, but last week the roof was mostly covered and the temperature was flirting with the low 30s. I’d come out to the barn in the morning by 9, go inside the arena to assess the level of crashes, and then get my longe line instead of my saddle. Longeing was definitely the better part of valor. Even the most bomb-proof steady eddies were unsettled. One morning a crash set off a young horse and face-planted his rider, kicking her in the head as well. Her helmet is cracked but, blessedly, not her head, and she’s shaken up but fine.

I’ve been using ear plugs on a horse for the first time in my life, and it seems to be helping, at least with the creaks and groans in the roof that come when the sun hits it, if not with the bomb-level explosions when the ice drops off. It cracked me up when I went to the tack shop and asked for plugs and they wanted to know the color of my horse so the plugs would match. I have a black mare, but I asked for grey. I want to be able to see the plugs because I need to remember to take them out when I remove the bridle and also so that I can find them easily if they drop out.

I’ve been thinking maybe ear plugs would be good for me as well. I flinch now when I hear a loud roof pop, and if I flinch then my horse does, too, of course. Good alpha mare that she is, she takes my cue and goes on alert for the source of concern. If I take a deep breath, she does also. I need to do more of that.

I’m looking forward to mud and shedding.

Resolution Report: Staying home for a change didn’t help matters. Didn’t gain but didn’t lose either. Rats.