Showing Promise
We had to return a saddle to Mr Moneybags the saddler, and, us being country folk these days, I was not surprised to receive instructions ‘take it to the Duck and Feather as the church clock chimes 12 and leave it with Oneyed Jack the Innkeeper’. As we entered the dear little pub at the heart of a little Cotswold village and made our way through the little old men who have been playing darts there for 30 years without a break, the old ladies supping their rustic soup, all eyes were on us as Strangers in Town. In my Toggi jacket and my Ralph Lauren breeches (charity shop) with dung-spattered wellies, J in full riding rig with chaps and a large leather saddle hung over her arm, the miasma of fresh horse was rising from us like a noxious cloud, and it dawned on me that anyone would think we were horsy people! I was immediately embarrassed and slunk about like an imposter. I wonder if we’ll ever feel like real Horsy People?
We’re getting there though: things have been going very well here in pony-land, we are feeling much more at ease around the stables and pony-girl has recovered her jumping nerve – at least in lessons, where under Pat’s eagle eye she dare not wimp out of anything. Clyde had done his bit too, dashing for his jumps with as much enthusiasm as ever:
“It’s ok it’s ok, I gottit I gottit, shuddup and stop kicking me sides – weeeeeeeeeee! Bounce! There! That wasn’t so bad was it? Gone a bit quiet ‘asn’t she? What’s she doin’ up there, Tilly?”
“Shaking like a jelly, Clyde.”
“Bloomin’ eck. Yours any better, Tils?”
“Bucked mine off after the spread, Clyde so I’m off back to me stable.”
Pat has had to adapt her stock phrase “Well ridden!” to “What a clever pony!” when praising the Clyde/pony-girl combo, but nonetheless she is impressed enough to have restated her intention to enter them into a local showjumping competition – we are so excited! We have to buy a show jacket and I am currently trying to get a bargain on Ebay. We went to a saddlery today to try some sneakily on to get the exact size: it has to be worn over a body protector so PG tried on ever larger and larger jackets, until we found one which fitted perfectly around her bulkily padded chest. Unfortunately this meant shoulders the width of Babe Ruth and sleeves to her knees, but hey, it’s not a beauty contest. It’s a huge step for us to enter the world of competition, even small-scale local stuff, and we’re enormously excited. Clyde of course has done shows by the thousand, winning numerous rosettes, and it is a pity these were not passed on to us when we took him over, since it is by no means certain he will ever win another under such an untried bottom as PG’s. But still - Our first show!
Other people’s horses have beautiful names like Spirit or Lord of the Skies, but ours was named long ago by someone with no soul, and he’s stuck with it. But it’s common practice to have another name for shows. He does have a showname of his own… Fallback. Fall is an unpropitious kind of word to have ringing in your ears as you enter a jumping class, six feet above the ground on a narrow swaying back with no safetybelt, or then again, it sounds like ‘we once had hopes of a really class pony, but we had to fall back on this third-rate clodhopper.’ So we are looking for a new name; one that sums up the qualities of our ‘happy, honest and brave little trier’ more poetically than Clyde. Any suggestions gratefully received.....
We’re getting there though: things have been going very well here in pony-land, we are feeling much more at ease around the stables and pony-girl has recovered her jumping nerve – at least in lessons, where under Pat’s eagle eye she dare not wimp out of anything. Clyde had done his bit too, dashing for his jumps with as much enthusiasm as ever:
“It’s ok it’s ok, I gottit I gottit, shuddup and stop kicking me sides – weeeeeeeeeee! Bounce! There! That wasn’t so bad was it? Gone a bit quiet ‘asn’t she? What’s she doin’ up there, Tilly?”
“Shaking like a jelly, Clyde.”
“Bloomin’ eck. Yours any better, Tils?”
“Bucked mine off after the spread, Clyde so I’m off back to me stable.”
Pat has had to adapt her stock phrase “Well ridden!” to “What a clever pony!” when praising the Clyde/pony-girl combo, but nonetheless she is impressed enough to have restated her intention to enter them into a local showjumping competition – we are so excited! We have to buy a show jacket and I am currently trying to get a bargain on Ebay. We went to a saddlery today to try some sneakily on to get the exact size: it has to be worn over a body protector so PG tried on ever larger and larger jackets, until we found one which fitted perfectly around her bulkily padded chest. Unfortunately this meant shoulders the width of Babe Ruth and sleeves to her knees, but hey, it’s not a beauty contest. It’s a huge step for us to enter the world of competition, even small-scale local stuff, and we’re enormously excited. Clyde of course has done shows by the thousand, winning numerous rosettes, and it is a pity these were not passed on to us when we took him over, since it is by no means certain he will ever win another under such an untried bottom as PG’s. But still - Our first show!
Other people’s horses have beautiful names like Spirit or Lord of the Skies, but ours was named long ago by someone with no soul, and he’s stuck with it. But it’s common practice to have another name for shows. He does have a showname of his own… Fallback. Fall is an unpropitious kind of word to have ringing in your ears as you enter a jumping class, six feet above the ground on a narrow swaying back with no safetybelt, or then again, it sounds like ‘we once had hopes of a really class pony, but we had to fall back on this third-rate clodhopper.’ So we are looking for a new name; one that sums up the qualities of our ‘happy, honest and brave little trier’ more poetically than Clyde. Any suggestions gratefully received.....
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