Dust Bunnies
Dust bunnies. I think thats what theyʼre called. I donʼt think Iʼve
ever sat still enough to see them before. I always thought they were a
bit like fairies, and I donʼt mean the camp type this time. It does help
that Iʼm on holiday.
Not at all unexpectedly, Iʼm sitting having a coffee. Iʼm watching the light stream through the window and pool on the table in front of me. Normally, the only bunnies I get to see are the ones scattering off the lawn when I schlep to the car in the blackness of an ungodly hour to go to the gym. I have to say, I prefer these ones. Watching these little specks dip and dive helps slow my brain and keep me from worrying what all my horses are getting up to at home. Frankly they all are probably happy of a holiday from me. I know the rest of the yard is glad of a break from my constant nattering. And they (the horses) are all pretty deserving of a holiday with all the training recently.
Itʼs amazing to see what progress has been made this last summer season. Heartwarming really, to see how far theyʼve come in such a short time. I guess itʼs all possible with the right approach. I know itʼs something my good friend Franc has been trying to drum into me for years — aims and intentions without the anxiousness. Itʼs only taken countless years, endless trainers, and one amazingly talented horse for my wooden noggin to accept that itʼs okay to play and have fun. Why shouldnʼt a flying change be fun? Why shouldnʼt half pass be a game we play in the arena? As I think it, ego is probably the answer. I do tend to carry mine around a lot, a bit like a chip on my shoulder. And these days Iʼll do my best to tell you that my shoulders are now muscled up enough to carry a decent sized chip. But actually those burdened broadened deltoids are full of knots.
Chips and knots. It sounds like a carpentry company. My furniture-creating father would be delighted. He is an amazing figure, part of the reason I try and prove myself in this sport, any sport. And all those nay sayers along the way. And the peers, pupils, and trainers Iʼve met as I yo yo up and down that ladder. Iʼm doing my best. And even that statement screams out to drop the ego and enjoy the fun.
The flavour of dressage and fitness that I love is at the heart of it. Iʼm taking those gleeful moments from what I do best and showering them on everyone and anyone whoʼs passing. Iʼve never held back when someone asks for advice when it comes to the ponies. And recently Iʼve been helping some people in the gym too! Itʼs a pleasure. Little do they release how much they help motivate me on the days when, like those morning bunnies, I want to run back to bed. So if weʼre having fun and leaving ego at home, we should be ready for winter. Which by the looks of the people passing this window is fast upon us. The last one to pass was discernible as neither male nor female. It could have been a grizzly bear for all the fur it was covered in.
Our winter preparations are well under way. Hay is in, extra feed on order in case deliveries to the island are tardy, the dentist has been to see all the ponies this week, and the saddler is due any day to recheck before winter training. The ever so important back guru Clare has been to see all the boys and girls, and has declared them fit. Iʼm on the list for a check up next time. And Suzanne at “The Gym” has been bending me into all sorts of weird and wonderful positions in the most platonic way to make sure Iʼm a little less knotted and chipped when that check up happens.
Last order of the day is a holiday, short and sweet, to bolster me for the winter months ahead. So here I am staring at dust bunnies, drinking latteʼs, and watching grizzly bears pass outside in the elements. Who knew Bournemouth could be so entertaining.
Not at all unexpectedly, Iʼm sitting having a coffee. Iʼm watching the light stream through the window and pool on the table in front of me. Normally, the only bunnies I get to see are the ones scattering off the lawn when I schlep to the car in the blackness of an ungodly hour to go to the gym. I have to say, I prefer these ones. Watching these little specks dip and dive helps slow my brain and keep me from worrying what all my horses are getting up to at home. Frankly they all are probably happy of a holiday from me. I know the rest of the yard is glad of a break from my constant nattering. And they (the horses) are all pretty deserving of a holiday with all the training recently.
Itʼs amazing to see what progress has been made this last summer season. Heartwarming really, to see how far theyʼve come in such a short time. I guess itʼs all possible with the right approach. I know itʼs something my good friend Franc has been trying to drum into me for years — aims and intentions without the anxiousness. Itʼs only taken countless years, endless trainers, and one amazingly talented horse for my wooden noggin to accept that itʼs okay to play and have fun. Why shouldnʼt a flying change be fun? Why shouldnʼt half pass be a game we play in the arena? As I think it, ego is probably the answer. I do tend to carry mine around a lot, a bit like a chip on my shoulder. And these days Iʼll do my best to tell you that my shoulders are now muscled up enough to carry a decent sized chip. But actually those burdened broadened deltoids are full of knots.
Chips and knots. It sounds like a carpentry company. My furniture-creating father would be delighted. He is an amazing figure, part of the reason I try and prove myself in this sport, any sport. And all those nay sayers along the way. And the peers, pupils, and trainers Iʼve met as I yo yo up and down that ladder. Iʼm doing my best. And even that statement screams out to drop the ego and enjoy the fun.
The flavour of dressage and fitness that I love is at the heart of it. Iʼm taking those gleeful moments from what I do best and showering them on everyone and anyone whoʼs passing. Iʼve never held back when someone asks for advice when it comes to the ponies. And recently Iʼve been helping some people in the gym too! Itʼs a pleasure. Little do they release how much they help motivate me on the days when, like those morning bunnies, I want to run back to bed. So if weʼre having fun and leaving ego at home, we should be ready for winter. Which by the looks of the people passing this window is fast upon us. The last one to pass was discernible as neither male nor female. It could have been a grizzly bear for all the fur it was covered in.
Our winter preparations are well under way. Hay is in, extra feed on order in case deliveries to the island are tardy, the dentist has been to see all the ponies this week, and the saddler is due any day to recheck before winter training. The ever so important back guru Clare has been to see all the boys and girls, and has declared them fit. Iʼm on the list for a check up next time. And Suzanne at “The Gym” has been bending me into all sorts of weird and wonderful positions in the most platonic way to make sure Iʼm a little less knotted and chipped when that check up happens.
Last order of the day is a holiday, short and sweet, to bolster me for the winter months ahead. So here I am staring at dust bunnies, drinking latteʼs, and watching grizzly bears pass outside in the elements. Who knew Bournemouth could be so entertaining.
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