Hmm. I guess I should get started.
Last Tuesday, I rode a grey horse named Merlin. Laura had told me that she hoped I would get Merlin and that I would like him. I was really surprised when I actually did get him right after. We jumped and had a good lesson. Once, I caught him in the mouth because I got a little left behind. I felt so terrible. Hurting a horse's mouth is an unforgivable sin to me. I spent the rest of the lesson patting his shoulder and apologizing to him.
Merlin was wonderful. I took a picture of him after my lesson because he's now my favorite school horse :)
On Thursday, we worked on the flat, as usual. I rode a chestnut horse named Blaze. Remember back when I had my makeup lesson and I wrote about how I was glad no one had been around when I was mounting Jasmine? Ughhh. Well, Blaze decided that he wanted to give me a hard time as well. I had to dismount in order to adjust my stirrups, because he was moving THAT much. When I tried to remount, Blaze walked off and started walking into the crowd of other horses. My breeches are meant for an extra tall person, so they're a little long in the crotch on me. I absolutely could not bring my leg over the saddle, and Blaze was just walking around wherever he pleased. I was lying on his back, turning him in a sharp circle with one rein, and trying to get him to stop. He was so hardheaded. Of course, I was laughing quite a bit, which didn't help my struggle. Eventually I made it up there, but not before I made a spectacle of myself. Oh well. It made me laugh.
After the initial battle, Blaze and I got along just fine. He had an exceptionally smooth jog, which was lovely to sit. We did some work with one stirrup (Yeah, one. I thought it was a little messed up and it really hurt my hip, so I ended up dropping both stirrups behind Teresa's back. Hahaha. I'm sneaky.), and then Teresa couldn't get me to pick them back up. Call me a masochist, but I love stirrupless work. All we did after the stirrupless work was walk around and cool out, so I figured she wouldn't care.
I had a great weekend with Stella, but I think I'll make a post right after this one to elaborate on that.
This Tuesday, I rode a big chestnut named Dutch. He had the most unusual markings--a black patch on his hindquarters and a black patch on the side of one of his cannon bones. I don't think I liked riding Dutch very much. I think a lot of it had to do with the saddle. It wasn't very comfortable, and it definitely didn't fit me properly. Dutch also cantered funny. I hated his canter so much that I two-pointed it. It felt like he was either cross-cantering or limpy-loping, or perhaps a combination of the two. It didn't help that my hip was hurting terribly. I was not pleased when I realized that it was Tuesday, our jumping day.
We jumped some jumps, and Dutch took a lot of steering. Teresa warned me about it, but he ducked out the first time anyway. The second try was good. We got over on the first try of our second jump, but I lost my stirrup again and fell forward. Since it was the same stirrup as last time, I'm thinking I threw my weight to the left side again. It was all good, but I couldn't sit Dutch's canter very well and I really wanted my stirrup back. I wanted to try it again, but the lesson was over with. That's too bad, I guess.
I wonder which horse I'll ride tomorrow.
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