Away For The Weekend

Finals are done! Thank goodness, I was beginning to wonder if my brain would short completely out before it was all over and done with.

It is time, and past, for some much needed rest and relaxation. So, I'm going away for the weekend. No stress, no classes, no work... and unfortunately no internet. Somehow I'll survive.

I promise, I have a couple of posts in mind for when I get back, and they're going to be better than what I've been doing once my brain catches up with the rest of me.

An update on Jane: I'm trying to decide whether to continue posting the story here, or leave it as a teaser for a while. See, once I get the book (and yes, it is a book) finished, I'm going to try to get it published. So, while I know you guys love the story, and I love the input, I'm wondering if maybe I should wait for publication to let the whole thing out. I'm hoping to finish it off this summer, and have it in shape to start shopping to agents and publishers in the fall.

I haven't made up my mind yet. When I do, I'll let you know.

Meanwhile, there are things I need to do to get the apartment ready for me to be gone for a couple of days, so I'd better go do them.

If I'm not back in two weeks, send the search party. And just in case, tell them to bring more beer.

Finals

One down, today. Another at one this afternoon. Then tomorrow at one. Then Friday at eight.

Then I'm done and can stop worrying about it, and start worrying about a job for the summer.

Until all of that is taken care of, expect light blogging.

'Scuse me now I have to go do one last bit of studying for my next final, and try to ignore the rain outside the window whispering "sleep, sleep".......

Big Brown

I promised you guys a post about Big Brown, but I didn't get back to it yesterday so here it is.

Big Brown. Gorgeous, fast as hell, and, holy shit, a racehorse with manners!

This guy is just a freaking freight train on the track, and a lovely one to watch at that. He's sleek and muscled and just a beautiful specimen.

The thing that surprised me the most about Big Brown, however, was not the ease with which he overcame his 20 post start, or the way he flew by the pack and cleared the finish line all by his lonesome, in spite of his fragile feet.

No, what surprised me most was his behavior. Anyone who watches horse racing knows that racers, by and large, are a high strung, ill mannered bunch. Trainers are afraid to kill their spirit, so they tend to let manners slide, and they're focused on speed, so they ignore the finer points of training.

If you look at the above picture of Big Brown, however, you'll see that he's bent at the poll, flexing his neck and "giving his head back" to his rider. He obviously wants to keep going, but he is listening.

Seeing a horse in the Kentucky Derby that will do that is a major surprise to me. Watching the videos online at the Kentucky Derby website of his previous races and workouts, I was flabbergasted.

It's so refreshing to see a horse that has that kind of speed and heart, also being given training beyond the required lead changes, and go go go.

It's a bonus that he's such a gorgeous boy, as well. I see many many girlfriends in Big Brown's future. Of course, the smart breeders will breed him to mares with feet like iron to try to overcome his brittle hoof walls, and to keep from reinforcing that fault.

But, as it stands, I think that Big Brown could have won the Derby blindfolded, with no jockey. This is a horse that was born to run, who loves his job, and is magnificent at it.

Keep your eyes open, folks. I think that, barring injury, Big Brown is going to breeze over the finish line of the first Triple Crown victory in thirty years.

The term "Cinderella Story" is apt enough here, as everyone was questioning his victory at the Derby because of his foot problems. Plus, here's a horse that's running on glass slippers, in the form of thin, fragile feet.

Pray that he doesn't lose one before the end of the ball, we need another Triple Crown.

Eight Belles

When I started looking at the field for the Derby, I immediately admired the spirit and attitude displayed by the three year old filly, Eight Belles. Watching the videos of her other races it was immediately obvious that she never gave up, and loved what she did.

Her amazonian stature at seventeen hands made me think she might just be able to keep up with the boys, and her drive to win made me think, given the right jockey, she might just cross that finish line first.

Unfortunately, in my personal opinion, her jockey screwed up.

If you watched, you'll know that early on Eight Belles settled in behind the pace-setters and stuck to them like a burr. Her jockey held her up there, and that saved some of her energy for the end of the race. Fine.

Problem is, if you watch that filly, you can see that she does not like to lose. The jockey made an error in judgment on when to turn her loose and instead of battling it out with Big Brown (another post on him later) at her top speed, she was still gaining momentum coming up on the finish line.

Before the Derby, they showed some footage of Eight Belles and her trainer, Larry Jones. They'd interviewed him, and he'd gone on to exercise the filly without taking off his mic. It was clear by the way he talked to her that he had a good working relationship with the horse, and it was also clear that she didn't want to stop running. The commentary of "Larry to Eight Belles, pull up," "any time now," illustrated well how much she just wanted to go and the patience her trainer had with her. He never yanked on her head to slow her down, just gave her the cues and waited for her to listen.

Her jockey wasn't so wise in my opinion. When they showed the best footage they had of Eight Belles galloping out after the race, I could see her still fighting to go. I also saw the jockey haul on her head, her head came up, she bobbled, the camera angle lost her as it followed Big Brown, but her shadow on the track was still visible.

That first bobble is when I think she broke the first ankle, and I think it was because she stiff-legged, locking the joints on her leg to try to slow down and get the pressure off when the jockey yanked on her mouth. That shadow came back up from the stumble, and immediately went asshole over teakettle, with a small human shadow pulling a superman move out in front of it.

I think, in my own personal opinion (and I've been looking for an official statement or more experienced opinion to confirm or shoot mine down, and haven't found any) that the broken legs were caused by the jockey yanking on her head. The first one happened right then, and the second happened when she came back up from the bobble that the first one caused with all of her weight on one leg.

I think that jockey should have known his mount a lot better than that.

Now, don't get me wrong here folks. I understand all too well that the Thoroughbred breeding programs have developed a really fast horse, that runs on brittle twigs for legs. All horse legs are vulnerable to a myriad of injuries, Thoroughbreds in particular have fine bone structure that makes them particularly susceptible to breaking those delicate legs. Witness Barbaro, a single wrong step that wasn't even noticeable enough to see on the infinite replays broke his leg.

But.

I think that the fractures suffered by Eight Belles could have been avoided. Human error killed that fantastic horse. Again, my personal opinion, and if you disagree with me, well, that's your option.

The Kentucky Derby

Every year, I wait impatiently for Derby Day. The most exciting two minutes in sports, surrounded by a day full of pageantry and pomp, a return to old-style southern luxury, and of course, lots of big floppy hats.

Here's the kicker. I don't follow racing. I know the big stables, and all that, but I don't follow it obsessively. Just the Triple Crown, and yes, I was watching when Barbaro broke his leg. I knew something was wrong before the announcer did, and the heart that he displayed by fighting to run anyway made me cry.

I have, however, been to Churchill Downs. I was in awe the entire time. Meanwhile, my ex was bored out of his mind while I gazed avidly around on the backside tour, touched the memorial headstones near the Kentucky Derby Museum reverently, and drug him to the grandstands to watch the day's races.

I didn't care, I was at Churchill.

So, every year I watch the Triple Crown. No mint juleps for me, but I will kick back with a beer or a mixed drink and cheer.

Another odd thing about me... I don't do predictions until they're on their way to the gate. I can research the horses, look at their workout times, do all of the things you're supposed to do to pick the winner.... and I'll be wrong.

But if I watch them head to the gate, and pick a horse then, that horse will at least show, more often than not. It's a talent I have.

So, welcome to Derby Day, grab your hats and some bourbon and settle in, folks, cause it's time for the Sport of Kings.

Sorry Folks

I would write a real post but things are hectic and nothing entertaining is really happening.

We're working cows this weekend, and Sparky is coming along, so there should be a post in that, at least...

And, I was going to use the video from the show as filler, but I'm still trying to hog-wrestle it into submission. Stupid software.

So, in lieu of actual content, I give you pictures from the show. These were taken by Farmdad, so enjoy.


This one is just a good one of Monkey. Bad one of me, but a good one of him. Please, no criticism on my seat here folks, I know it's wrong, but I was nursing some lovely bruises and a bruised tailbone that day. I was just trying not to seize up, start crying, and slide out of my saddle to the ground every time I bumped my butt.
This one shows his big ol' long stride. This is his "collected" canter, folks. He's bred for reaching out there and eating up the ground, and he can do it for hours.
This is Red, the miniature wonder, and Sparky. He looks a lot better with someone on his back than he does without them, which should tell you just how ugly he is without a rider. But Sparky has made excellent progress with him the last three months, and I'm proud of how well he's doing now.


And here we have E and Etta. She's so small she makes E look like the Jolly Green Giant. But she's gonna make a hell of a horse, I think.

Below are a couple of just good pics. The first, the young man in the green shirt is the guy who won the HTM portion of the show, and the handmade saddle, the second is just a gorgeous pic of one of the colts. The horse in the second pic is named "Baby," and is beautiful, but dumb as a brick, alas.

My Horse...

Is made of contrary.

I talk about how good he's been doing the few days before the show, and he dumps me.... rather spectacularly.... and gives me a set of bruises and sore spots that are extremely inconvenient.

Saddle horns are quite hard and when your horse tries to give you a colonoscopy with one it makes for a quite painful few days.

The ground didn't hurt me that bad, I managed to roll and just bumped my head a little. But, since I was asleep at the wheel, Dipstick The Rough Stock Wonder got me up on the horn (trust me guys, it hurts when a girl gets racked too) and then in front of the horn for a couple of jumps.

Of course, he was being good and I was being nice, so he had a nice loose rein.... so I was a long way from having his head. I knew about the third jump I was coming off, it was just a matter of doing it where I wouldn't land on someone.

So yeah, bruised my tailbone, got nice big bruises in spots that I don't usually show until after the third date, and generally sored myself up the day before the show.

Getting on him yesterday was an exercise in self-torture. But, the show must go on. And, it was highly amusing for everyone around me to listen to me whimper when I swung my leg over him. Marilyn in particular was entertained.

Warmup... Monkey was a spazz. He spooked at people walking by the round pen, where we'd gone because I didn't know what he was going to do and there were a lot of people to run into in the arena if things did go rodeo. Then he spooked at a tumble weed in the arena. It wasn't even blowing, it was just up against the fence. Twitchy, spooky, wouldn't pick up his left lead for love or money.

I spent most of my conversational time telling everyone that as long as he didn't kill me, I'd be happy.

Marilyn's parting comment before I went in the arena to do my pattern was "Keep the horse between you and the ground."

And we won.

No joke, that contrary piece of horseflesh won the show, after all of the crap he put me through, after piling my ass in front of god and everybody, he won. Not without making me want to cry and fall out of the saddle when he jumped out of a rollback and shoved me back into the cantle, of course, but he won.

And you can't tell that I'm about to wet myself on the video, which I'll try to edit (the software that came with the camera is crap) and get posted asap.

Five hundred dollar scholarship for next semester, makes my wallet happy, but right now I'm still sore as hell... I kept myself loose enough yesterday because I stretched everything out when I got up, then didn't slow down long enough to stiffen up again. Today, my body is making me pay for making it ride yesterday.

Neck, back, a little on the ribs, of course my tailbone and extreme inner upper right thigh (big ol' lovely bruise there, too) are really sore. Then there's the all over body-ache, which is easy enough to deal with. I just sit down suddenly, or at the wrong angle, and I forget all about the muscle aches.

Farmmom is over the moon, of course. I thought she was gonna bust when our portion of the show was over and I had the high score.

During the awards presentation, I just knew that Marilyn was being evil to me when she announced a new award. The Ground Greeter's Award.

Fortunately, two of the HTM students tied for that one, with Marilyn telling me later that they had "a couple" more buck-offs than I did.

I just knew I was going to have to wave my hat and smile for the crowd while I was plotting how best to get revenge. Instead I got to cheer for the winners and laugh.

But, we won, the horses are home, I get to heal up until next weekend when we work cows again, and I got accolades from HTM students that have spent a lot of time looking down on us lowly EBMers, simply for getting back on my horse after he went rodeo, and riding the next day.

Well, what else was I supposed to do?