climbing the valley walls

It was bound to happen. I've been riding the wave of horseriding-excitement for three months.

Every high has its low. Yesterday, I just wasn't feeling it. Life piled up. I'd had three nearly-sleepless nights in a row, I'd worked almost 30 hours in those three days, it was a particularly stressful work week, I was barely keeping up with my homework (thanks to the gracious acceptance of a late assignment by one of my professors), and I'm low on the cash flow this month. So when my alarm went off yesterday morning, I snoozed it for about 30 minutes. Then I got up and drove my kiddo to school, came back home and went back to bed.

I could have stayed in bed all day, comfortably if not happily.

When I could no longer sleep, I still laid in bed, not feeling like moving despite my plans to ride that morning. Eventually, I realized what was happening. I've been maxed out recently, and depression was sinking in. But I know the signs of anhedonia and I wasn't about to let that cycle get a foothold. I forced myself to get out of bed and go to the barn. To be fair, it was a lot easier to keep going once I started, and I was at least happy to be at the barn once I got there.

I had planned to work with Dash on our walk-trot transitions again, but something was off from the moment I got there.

I assumed it was just me and my depression, so I let the awareness just stay on the back burner, not fully ignoring it, but not paying it any attention, either. Then I went about my routine.

Get the tack out of the shed.
Put a treat in my pocket for later.
Grab Dash's halter and lead rope.

Dash seemed quiet when I led him out of the pasture - this is unusual for him.
He does usually stand quietly while tied, though, and this time he started shaking his head. Up and down, repeatedly. There were flies buzzing around; the day was oddly still for our windy autumn season. I got the fly spray out and gave him a good layer. The head tossing stopped. Well, that's that, I thought.

He didn't toss his head when I went to put the bit in his mouth - that's unusual for him. We usually have at least two head tosses before he takes the bit.

Hmm.

All tacked up, he followed me almost meekly to the arena. Again, uncharacteristic. He's usually excited.

As soon as I turned to close the arena gate behind us, the wind picked up.
The wind always makes Dash antsy, but this time he seemed half asleep.

He dragged his feet and half-stumbled several times in our first five minutes in the arena.
I dismounted, concerned. I led him around to see if he looked lame - he wasn't. He perked up a bit while we walked around, and even head-butted me like normal as he followed along behind me. But he was still oddly quiet.

I led Dash back out of the arena, untacked him, and just walked around the yard with him.

The wind was getting ridiculous at this point. I talked to M about Dash's mood and health; she thinks (and she would know) that he's just out of sorts. There are two new horses at the barn and the weather's been changing rapidly lately (cue gust of wind). There was no sign of poor health, but Dash is a worrier. She always keeps a close eye on him, so I'm not really worried, but I felt bad for the big goof ball. He hadn't even asked for a treat until after his saddle was off. That's usually the first thing he communicates to me when I show up.

The weather got weird, then. It was calm but windy and the birds were going crazy. It felt like a storm, but one never came.

I went home pensive.

I took today off. I still didn't feel rested when I woke up, and I just felt crappy. I guessed that Dash and I could both use a day off. I'm going tomorrow, though, even if I don't ride. I can't let the depression win.

I've been coasting on the excitement of getting back to horseback riding. Now, I've reached the low point, but that's okay. I know how to climb up out of the valley.

One day at a time. 

Stillness

The other day I posted a link to the 'crane cam' at Whitewater Draw.

But it was late when I posted and the crane cam only showed the night.

I went back to it this morning, out of curiosity.

I watched it, fascinated, for I don't know how long.

This is my new stillness.


Whitewater Draw

morning
prairie grass murmurs
cranes flutter, tumble
and call




Shared with the imaginary garden's real toads.


I wish I knew html well enough to load up that feed on this post, but I don't so you'll have to visit their site.
https://www.azgfd.com/wildlife/viewing/webcamlist/sandhillcrane/cranecam/

Transitions

This morning Dash and I worked on gait transitions. We're a little rough but I'm getting better about keeping my heels down and staying balanced.

In the afternoon I took Bear (my son) to see that Sandhill Cranes at Whitewater Draw. It's close to our house, an easy trip I often forget is available. The cranes are there in full glory this time of year. This is their winter home. Their presence is a sure sign that summer is over, and winter is near. I'd never seen them before, although Bear had. I had no idea they made such interesting/odd/what-the-heck-is-that sounds. I'd show you a video but apparently I accidentally deleted the one I took. You'll have to take my word for it, except that I don't even know how to describe the sound they made. 

This evening I made two little belt pouches for Bear's yu-gi-oh cards, which are currently his prized possession. They took me forever because I didn't know what I was doing so I basically had to design them as I sewed them. Probably not the best non-plan I've ever had, but it seems to have worked out. I'm pretty happy with them. I'll get pics tomorrow. 

There's something so permanent about cutting and sewing fabric. It always takes me eons to decide what to sew, and out of what fabric, because once I start, that beautiful whole piece of cloth is gone forever. Whatever it becomes had better be worth that loss. 

Hey look, I found a video someone else took:

How would you describe that sound? 

This is cool too. It's a 'crane cam' maintained by the Arizona Game & Fish Department. https://www.azgfd.com/wildlife/viewing/webcamlist/sandhillcrane/cranecam/

(That'll be better viewed during the day...)

election depression

I'm still struggling to put my thoughts into words.

I woke up late Wednesday morning. Somehow my phone had turned itself off during the night - even though it was on the charger, so the battery was not dead - which meant my alarm didn't go off. I woke up half an hour after my son's school started. He had slept through his alarm (but he does that every day lately).

Even so, I couldn't hurry. I made him breakfast. He got ready for school. We drove there quietly. I went to the office with him, to sign him in. On the sign in sheet, three names up, somebody's parent had given "election depression" as the reason for tardiness.

I thought, "yeah, that's exactly right," but I didn't want to seem like a copycat so I just left that box blank.

I had planned to go riding, like I do pretty much every Wednesday, but the wind was pretty vicious and when I texted M she said the wind was so bad at her place that she didn't think it was safe to ride. So I stayed home. I played Baldur's Gate on my computer. I looked up recipes. At one point my boss texted me to complain about the frosting I'd used on a cake Tuesday. The frosting was too thin; I'd ended up having to pour it on the cake. It was her recipe, and I'd added more than three times the amount of powdered sugar to it, trying to get it to thicken, but it just wouldn't thicken. I ignored those texts. I told myself to do some homework, but I didn't do that. I couldn't do that - it was too hard to focus on mental tasks. In the evening I sewed a new scarf while watching Project Runway with my son and husband. It's our shared guilty pleasure. My boss texted me again before I went to bed, asking me to come in an hour earlier today. I slept as though I'd worked the whole day.

I don't normally work on Thursdays, but my boss had asked me to cover for her so she could do a catering event.

I got up this morning feeling mostly rested, if not restful. I told my boss I'd try to get there at the earlier time. Then I went riding.

It was windy as hell, still, but not dangerously so.

Dash is always spooky when it's windy, and I didn't have as much time as I'd wanted, but we managed to accomplish something awesome despite that: Dash trotted for about six consecutive strides, twice.

I know, I know. That sounds... like a thing all horses can do.
Dash hates trotting. He has two speeds: walk and canter. I hadn't actually gotten him to trot before today, but I can tell you that his canter is so ridiculously bumpy that I have a hell of time riding it. I assumed his trot would be equally bouncy.
But today, four of those strides were actually smooth. It almost felt like a jog. And and I got him to move between speeds - like going from a slow walk to a fast walk without breaking out into a canter. I was so damn happy I didn't even mind that we had to cut our time short to accommodate my boss. Well, I didn't mind horribly I mean.

One of these days I'll get video of Dash's gaits. I've never felt so much vertical movement in a horse's canter before. It's like flying lead changes but not.

Also, I've learned that keeping those heels way down is probably the most important thing I have to learn about riding Dash.

That's my focus right now.

On Saturday I'm going to a protest.
Next week I'm hosting a comfort food party at my house.
But right now, I'm riding my horse.
It's the best I can do.

Biscuits & history.

Today I made biscuits and looked for a dead man in the 1910 census. I found him in the voter registration records. Not in that order though - the biscuits came later, with creamed beef.




...Because I'm a research librarian/docent at our local museum, and people come looking for information about their ancestors just about daily. Then I got a craving for biscuits and gravy but didn't have any stock, so I made creamed beef instead.

The biscuits turned out fine, but I am not using that recipe for creamed beef again. It was bland at best and gross at worst. I'll let you know when I find something better. 

Coming home.

I've been trying to get home for a long time.
The thing is, I seem to have lost track of where 'home' is... or do I mean where it was?
Home wasn't where I'd left it. I even went back and looked at the last place I remember seeing it - it wasn't there, either.

Have you ever gotten lost in the woods? My home used to be a place with woods. When I was a kid I used to go out to "the woodlot" and leave the trail behind. I always thought I'd be able to find my way back using landmarks - this tree that had that funny looking branch, or the rock that was sticking out from under those particular two tufts of ...whatever that plant was. That never worked. What did work was picking a direction and sticking to it. Eventually I would come to the fence that wrapped around two sides of the woods, or the road that bordered another side, or our front pasture on the last side. From there I could find my way back.

That's where I left home: in western New York, on 155 acres of pastures, streams, and woods; with a small herd of horses, some cattle, and a colony of barn cats. I was 17. I was too disillusioned and too self-centered to stay, and the woodlot wasn't enough to distract me anymore.

I led a lot of lives, followed a hundred rabbit trails and noted the passing of at least a dozen landmarks that I'll never see again. Then, when the sun sank and the skies rumbled, I started to look for home. For the last few years, I've been sticking to one direction: up.

I don't know exactly what home will look like when I get there, but I know I've seen the borders. There's my husband and my son wrapping around two sides; there's the road lined with gardens, recipes, paintbrushes, and books; there's the pasture in front, with the horse, saddled and waiting to race me home.