palace of winds

I have a few things I’ve been meaning to write about, but today is Monday and about all I can muster is: My horse, he is pretty.

I actually had a handful of pictures to share with you — worked diligently last night to edit out the lunge line and resize them — and then, of course, forgot to put them on my little thumb drive. So they’ll have to wait.

In the last week or so, something about cantering under saddle has clicked with Ev. Maybe it was just time; I’ve been riding him for almost six months now (I just checked back, and the first day my butt was in the saddle was 10/26/07 — how I lasted the 15 days between when I got him and then I’m not sure), and it’s crazy thinking back to those first weeks especially, when it was a total triumph the day I got him to trot an entire lap around the arena. Or maybe this new cantering prowess is down to the groundpoles we started on two weeks ago. He loves them — it gives him something more to think about, and I think we’re both ready for a break from the indoor arena routine after a long winter. Or it could be the weather, which is finally looking spring-ish.

Whatever the cause, on Friday he gave me the most beautiful soft round canter, a whole circle of it with no crazy falling out the outside shoulder, right after giving me a few pretty stellar laps around the other direction. The whole thing felt like a million dollars; I was grinning so hard my face hurt. I made an enormous fuss over him and stopped right there, even though I’d only been riding maybe 15 minutes. He was gorgeous yesterday too; we got to ride outside, and it was lots of pretty prompt transitions and some great turning. I’m very proud of him.

Once I get them uploaded, I promise pictures (marginal at best, but pictures) of his new haircut. He’s looking so grown up — he’ll be five next week!

Here’s little Peyton Michelle, a few hours old, being held by my mom, Michelle Coleen. Driving to the hospital, my mom mentioned off-hand that she hadn’t thought to ask Peyton’s middle name. I was all nonchalance and gave a very credible Huh, me either!, though I’d known the plan for ages. I hope I never forget the moment my mom saw the little bassinet tag.

I know no one’s all that objective about their own babies, but since Peyton isn’t actually mine I feel I’m qualified to declare that she’s unutterably beautiful. Alex was a very pretty baby too, not all squashy the way babies can be, and Peyton looks very much like him. Holding the perfect little breathing weight of her, I felt like I could almost one day want one of my own. (Coleen’s a nice name. Or Violet; I love Violet.)

I took this pic this morning while walking out to my car. Through snowfall. Snow.fall. It won’t stick, but enough already.

And, for good measure, a bit of that flocking I was talking about last week:

The weather on Saturday was beautiful, though — a lovely bright slice of spring. We took advantage with a little stroll down Lake Street; I stopped in Schatzlein to browse, and left with a new helmet and a few little things for Ev. One of these snowfalls must be the last of the season, and before we know it everything will be hot muggy perfect high summer and I can ride outside until I crisp. I’m supposed to wait until Wednesday to go to the barn (after Lasik you’re to avoid dusty environments for at least a week), but I need a horse hug like you wouldn’t believe. I just might have to sneak out there tomorrow.

How much would you pay someone to stick a laser in your eye? If it made you see better, I mean.

I had my Lasik consultation yesterday. I am an excellent candidate (and am possessed, apparently, of big pupils [not to imply that they make me a better candidate]). It is sort of monstrously expensive. With the money I could, for an example pulled from an email I just got, go to Portugal for a week to train with Olympic jumping riders: five days of morning lessons and afternoon trail rides. Surely I could go to Egypt for the cost (it is, I think, my next Peru). I could get a lovely new saddle. I could get nearly two Everetts, for that matter. I could horde it; spend dark nights stroking my account statements, all My precioussss. Or, that old haunting refrain: Down Payment.

I’ve really struggled with this whole money thing. Do you have money mentors in your life? How do you make your spending decisions? When do you say when? It’s always been quite a secret thing in my family, money, and I admit I feel a little adrift about it. I’ve never been one to do something just because other people are (a bit of the opposite, really), but I’m also a research fanatic and this is one thing I’ve really come up dry on. I keep searching after some conventional wisdom, a pool of experience, but I can’t find any rhyme or reason in this. How should I spend? I don’t know what the rest of the world is like, but it seems Americans have really fallen down on the whole budgeting/money management education thing. Where is that line between saving for later and living now?

I like my eyes. The idea of cutting them open and shooting lasers in them is a little freaky, but not having to mess around with glasses or contacts any more sounds blissful. Today S– said that I should do it, and I asked why. “Because life is better,” she said. “Life is just better.” What a compelling idea, that.

(Unrelated: I took this just after my move to show you the mess of boxes and trees and lamps and stuff my life had exploded into. I still haven’t found a place for that damn tree.)

Ladies and gents, I give you spring.

Well, two days before spring — but this was the start of snow that lasted through yesterday, and is supposed to continue intermittently throughout this week. Inches and inches of snow. I have other pictures from Friday out my balcony, but they’re on my camera at home and are almost too depressing to contemplate. There shouldn’t be a pretty snowed vista outside my balcony right now. Give me green!

In happier news, my horse (if I’ve neglected to mention) is lovely:

For the past month or so we’ve been working on ground-tying (the doggie equivalent being ’stay’) after every ride. He picked it up right away, and he’s getting quite good at it. It’s quite useful to be able to leave him to go grab a whip or turn out the lights or whatever, but I really should transfer the lesson to the barn aisle now, where there are significantly more distractions.

Also, that pony you can see in the background there? That’s my friend and her daughter’s new pony, a fjord/mustang/paint (which is a crazy mix). He is about two hands (eight inches) shorter than Everett, but their taped weight is the same. (There’s a tape you can wrap around a horse’s barrel just behind the front legs to estimate their weight — they give you a pretty good idea, though I’m not sure what the margin of error is.) He’s going into training and on a serious pony diet. Anyhow, I hopped on him last week and he is crazy amounts of fun. He feels ridiculously smooth. I’m very excited for them.

Also, totally unrelated word to the wise. If you’re ever tempted to buy green tea flavored gum, don’t. It’s not good.