The return of Captain Nemo
Aug. 3rd, 2010 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgThrough the twin miracles of caffeine and sugar on a mostly empty stomach I managed a solid 4 hour workday today, and with perhaps foolish overconfidence I then went directly to the stables. Jeans tucked in to boots not possibly the best look, but I managed to stay out of the mud.
Empty stomach due to having the power off all day for maintenance. I was too lazy to use gas to make porridge on the stovetop. I think I had celery and chic peas for breakfast, but dinner last night was a goodly sized serve of pasta so I'm in no danger of fading away to nothing.
I did my best to be cautious with my spoons, and spent most of my hour there steadily carrying mostly little stuff hither and thither. Note to self: find a better way to carry two rugs at once. It was one of those good days (i.e. Tuesday) where they really appreciated any help they could get for the final stretch. Everyone who was there had already been there all day.
I swallowed multiple fears and bridled the evil Nemo. He now sports a drop noseband on his bridle - an extra couple of straps that wrap around his nose to prevent him from biting. The problem with this theory is that one first has to get the bridle on the pony to prevent the biting. The last time I saw him being bridled he was effectively thwarting two adults. I was actually very impressed with his behaviour when I first tried it on, but I wasn't familiar with the fitting and asked for assistance. I discovered that he'd had another change in tack to help control him - instead of leading by a halter under the bridle, he had an extra thingie that clipped directly onto the bit rings. So, off came the bridle and the halter, and back on went the bridle for the second time. And the extra thingie.
I like putting on bridles and hope to do more of it. Apart from the occasional novelty value of ununsual tack, every part of the process has to be adapted for the relative height of horse and human. I admit there are certain advantages in being able to loom over the head of one'svictim mount, but really small ponies are just weird.
Once the lesson was well under way, the coach decided that Nemo's rider wasn't coming after all, and I should take his gear off. Naturally this was the cue for the rider to arrive, so poor Nemo had to suffer me putting on his bridle for the third time in under an hour. He was not wildly impressed, but was at worst a bit lippy (being the precursor to nippy). It appears that since he can no longer bite with his tack on, he is less inclined now to bite in general. In all this coming and going I only got to unsaddle him the once, but this involved another extra strap under his tail (a crupper) that the big horses don't have. That's a lot of bondage gear for such a small creature.
It's fortunate that he was being well-behaved, with no kicking, head-tossing or barging, because he's got so much fluffy mane and forelock I couldn't see to read his ears or his eyes. My legs were getting a bit wobbly by this time because of the extra crouching, but in time I'll learn to do up the extra straps by feel.
I finished off the afternoon by washing up a handful of spoons and coffee cups in the volunteers' room. I have a sneaking suspicion that that may have been the most appreciated thing I did all day (I confess I made myself anti-useful more than once by putting things away that should have been left out). I like the idea of an exhausted person sighing with relief on discovering that one small end-of-a-long-day job had been done. Baby steps to World Peace :-)
I must remember that tidying up the kitchen is a valid contribution that I can make on my gratuitous horse scritching visits. As hoped I got the chance to check with the coach that I am still welcome to make gratuitous horse scritching visits, but if some spoons need to be rinsed I'm sure I could manage that too.
Empty stomach due to having the power off all day for maintenance. I was too lazy to use gas to make porridge on the stovetop. I think I had celery and chic peas for breakfast, but dinner last night was a goodly sized serve of pasta so I'm in no danger of fading away to nothing.
I did my best to be cautious with my spoons, and spent most of my hour there steadily carrying mostly little stuff hither and thither. Note to self: find a better way to carry two rugs at once. It was one of those good days (i.e. Tuesday) where they really appreciated any help they could get for the final stretch. Everyone who was there had already been there all day.
I swallowed multiple fears and bridled the evil Nemo. He now sports a drop noseband on his bridle - an extra couple of straps that wrap around his nose to prevent him from biting. The problem with this theory is that one first has to get the bridle on the pony to prevent the biting. The last time I saw him being bridled he was effectively thwarting two adults. I was actually very impressed with his behaviour when I first tried it on, but I wasn't familiar with the fitting and asked for assistance. I discovered that he'd had another change in tack to help control him - instead of leading by a halter under the bridle, he had an extra thingie that clipped directly onto the bit rings. So, off came the bridle and the halter, and back on went the bridle for the second time. And the extra thingie.
I like putting on bridles and hope to do more of it. Apart from the occasional novelty value of ununsual tack, every part of the process has to be adapted for the relative height of horse and human. I admit there are certain advantages in being able to loom over the head of one's
Once the lesson was well under way, the coach decided that Nemo's rider wasn't coming after all, and I should take his gear off. Naturally this was the cue for the rider to arrive, so poor Nemo had to suffer me putting on his bridle for the third time in under an hour. He was not wildly impressed, but was at worst a bit lippy (being the precursor to nippy). It appears that since he can no longer bite with his tack on, he is less inclined now to bite in general. In all this coming and going I only got to unsaddle him the once, but this involved another extra strap under his tail (a crupper) that the big horses don't have. That's a lot of bondage gear for such a small creature.
It's fortunate that he was being well-behaved, with no kicking, head-tossing or barging, because he's got so much fluffy mane and forelock I couldn't see to read his ears or his eyes. My legs were getting a bit wobbly by this time because of the extra crouching, but in time I'll learn to do up the extra straps by feel.
I finished off the afternoon by washing up a handful of spoons and coffee cups in the volunteers' room. I have a sneaking suspicion that that may have been the most appreciated thing I did all day (I confess I made myself anti-useful more than once by putting things away that should have been left out). I like the idea of an exhausted person sighing with relief on discovering that one small end-of-a-long-day job had been done. Baby steps to World Peace :-)
I must remember that tidying up the kitchen is a valid contribution that I can make on my gratuitous horse scritching visits. As hoped I got the chance to check with the coach that I am still welcome to make gratuitous horse scritching visits, but if some spoons need to be rinsed I'm sure I could manage that too.
