Hope

Once, English and Afrikaans murdered each other in the thousands. The stubborn Afrikaner met the relentless Englishman in a bloody clash that would last for years and destroy countless families; the marching hordes of the British facing the savage guerrillas of the Boer. Farms burned, men and boys died, and women and children starved in concentration camps in what has been called “the most terrible and destructive modern armed conflict in South Africa’s history”.

The Anglo-Boer War took place just more than a century ago, 1899-1902, and claimed the lives of thousands of people. Since this is an equestrian blog, perhaps the number most likely to bring home the sheer magnitude of the bloodbath is the number of horses that were killed: 300 000. That’s almost ten times the population of my hometown.

 

 

Today has been dubbed “Black Monday”. Not terribly original, perhaps, but it’s a name on the lips of almost every South African on this day. Highways are slowed to a crawl and smaller roads closed by hundreds of farmers and tractors and bakkies and their supporters, all wearing black. Whether I agree with the protest – peaceful though it is – itself or not is immaterial; at least voices are being heard. Today I have a strip of black cloth tied around my wrist. In mourning for the thousands of Afrikaners that are dying in this time.

Our farmers are being killed, raped, robbed and tortured in the farm attack trend that’s spreading all over the country. It’s not declared war, but it is ugly, and it is bloody. It’s also threatening to tear apart the ideal of the Rainbow Nation that our hero Madiba lived and died and won the Nobel Prize for. The actions of a hateful group has caused the festering old wound of racism to erupt and bleed on both sides. It is blatant, open, unquestioned.

In the minds of many, it has become us versus them. Black versus white. We don’t say it too loudly on social media, but the anger is there, the hatred is there. It is undoubtedly there for the killers, who have almost without exception targeted white Afrikaans farmers. Their excuse for their grudge is apartheid, which ended twenty-three years ago. I will be unpopular but truthful for saying that apartheid still lives on in the hearts of thousands – both black and white. For those killers, at least, it is still very much alive, and their hatred is based on the most pointless of factors: skin colour and the less-than-recent past.

 

The bitter enemies of Afrikaans and English reached a moody treaty in 1902, although many of the Boere, as stubborn and unbreakable as the rough country where they originate, chose exile over surrender. We call them the Bittereinders; Wikipedia translates the word to “irreconcilables”, but directly, it means, “Bitter Enders.” Bitter is a good name for it. Bitter is what we are today.

But we don’t have to be. Not forever.

On Sundays, I tuck my Bible under my arm and go to church. I mount the steps of a building older than the war, the Nederduitse Gereformeerde Kerk. We call it the Klipkerk. I speak fluent Afrikaans with no accent to the ouderlinge and I slide into my pew and sing the Oorwinningslied.

Then the dominee takes his place and we sit, and he begins to preach in Afrikaans. And I open my King James Bible and read along in English.

A hundred years ago, it would not have been possible, but here it is. My dad is so English he could barely understand anyone when we moved to our very Afrikaans community seventeen years ago. My mom is as Afrikaans as they come. As for me, I was ‘the Anglo-Boer Bulge’ before I was born. I have met with nothing but acceptance, and a little friendly ribbing, from “pure” English or Afrikaans people and communities.

I am the offspring of those who once were sworn enemies. And I am hope.

 

 

We have already come so far. And when I say “we”, I don’t mean “white Afrikaans/English people like me”, I mean “South African people like me”. We have already won so many small battles. This last uprising, this desperate resistance of evil and disunity can be conquered – must be conquered. We cannot give up now, we cannot give in to the darkness now, we cannot continue in our old and hateful ways anymore because it will shred us all. The farm attacks are born of racism; our response doesn’t have to be. We will stop those criminals not because they are people who are black but because they are people who are doing bad things. Surely that’s what’s more important? And we will stop the bad things we’re doing, in our actions, our hearts, and our words.

And yet I know we have a long way to go before apartheid ends, even though it was officially abolished before I was even born. It’s alive and kicking in the words and hearts of millions.

But it is not alive in mine. I have killed it. It fought back, of course, as hatred does; growing up in a world that sees in black and white makes the temptation difficult. It’s so easy to blame a skin colour rather than a flaw of society or, worse, a flaw of your own.

Our struggles are not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world (Ephesians 6:12). Our enemies are not only human. Our fight is not only physical. I will not allow the darkness to overwhelm my heart. I will not allow racism to colour my vision. I will feel. I will believe. I will mourn for my brothers and sisters who have fallen, regardless of their skin colour.

Thousands of us have taken an entire day to stage this protest. Will we all take ten minutes every morning to take the fight to our knees? Will we all pray for our people with the same vehemence with which we curse our enemies?

The real bad guys only win when they make us hateful. In many of us, they’re winning.

I stand with every farmer who has died, every nourisher of our people who has had to be afraid, and I stand with every person who has ever been a victim of racism. I stand against hatred. I stand against violence. I stand against all that is dark and evil. I stand against unrighteous judgment and the division between the races. I stand for love, I stand for faith, and I stand for hope.

 

 

It might take a century, but I pray and I wait and I watch for the day when a brown-skinned young person mounts the steps of the Klipkerk and listens to an Afrikaans sermon, reading along in a Zulu Bible. It has been done before. It can be done again.

And I pray God that it is, for all of our sakes.

Adventures of Champagne and Sunè

So, we’ve had a busy two days with various adventurings. It started on Tuesday night when Champagne managed to hurt herself in the field and get a puncture wound in her side. It gave all of us something of a fright, not least Champagne, but mercifully does not appear to be serious. And for once her timing was good: she had a vet appointment the following day to have a check-up and X-rays in case her behaviour issues could be pain related.

This meant shipping her off to the clinic in Midrand, a prospect I viewed with not inconsiderable trepidation, considering that the last time she was boxed she had been sedated within the first five minutes and ran through fences on arrival at our yard. I didn’t want a repeat performance, thanks. I shoved her full of Good as Gold, which is a magnesium supplement and a very good calming remedy for stressed-out horse owners/trainers, and took the precaution of hiring a two-berth and bringing Stardust along for the ride.

Champagne boxed better than Stardust. I held my breath all the way to Midrand, but she was a model traveller. She spent the entire trip eating hay and trying to steal from Dusty’s net, and was calm and relaxed on arrival. I had gloves on and made sure all the gates were closed before unloading her, but I needn’t have bothered. She got off the box, looked around, felt a little tense and then began to eat some grass.

After hanging out in the stable for a bit, the vet appeared and his groom led her out for the lameness exam. This involved being led away from all the other horses, but she trotted up and down on a loose lead like an old hand and stood perfectly still for the flexion tests. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Then she went into the scary crush and had X-rays raken of all four her feet, for which she behaved perfectly. This from the horse that arrived sedated at my place because it was insane. I couldn’t really be happier.

The news from the exam is good, too. The wound is not serious as far as we can see; the vets cleaned it nicely and sent us home with antibiotics and NSAIDs and instructions. The lameness exam came up with nothing, but her feet are dreadful. She has very, very underrun heels and long toes, with a badly broken back hoof-pastern axis. This much I knew; what I didn’t know was that our farrier could be doing a whole lot more to sort it out. So we will be looking for a special farrier for the special creature. There are no bony changes showing on the X-rays yet, but her pedal bone needs to change its angle by about 13 degrees. It was fascinating to see exactly how the internal structures of the foot are so closely related to its external shape. I will be paying much closer attention to the feet in future.

The good news, though, is that nothing is causing her pain right now. I’m free to go on and deal with all the psychological problems, safe in the knowledge that there are no physical triggers right now.

Today a horse of an entirely different colour went on an entirely different adventure. The Arab stud down the road – home to Bahroe and Sevita, whom I schooled briefly – is under new management and has lovely trails now. The trouble is that none of the horses have really gone hacking before, so they needed a confident lead.

Enter Sunè and I. I wanted to take the dragon, but I wasn’t happy about riding down the gravel with her feets. I also wanted to take Ash but I worried for her tendon, and Lulu and Stardust aren’t super sound, and Trooper is young (and requires fsr too much leg), and Thunny and Jamaica aren’t totally trustworthy. So I took Sunè. I haven’t been on her in months, and she hasn’t been on a hack alone in months, but she’s fit and sound.

It’s about 3km down the road from us and we covered most of it at a smart trot. Sunè was eager for an adventure and carried me boldly forward. She hadn’t even broken a sweat when we arrived to find the new yard manager, who can’t be much older than me, tacking up Bahroe himself. It was so nice to see him looking relaxed.

Having dealt happily with trucks, culverts, ditches and water on the way there, Sunè promptly spooked at a lavender bush and a loopy Arab, then refused to drink from their lovely fancy fountain and settled to munching grass in their gorgeous stableyard.

Once Bahroe was ready, we set off; one fat little Nooitie and one wide-eyed grey Arab.

And two very chuffed yard managers. I haven’t been on a proper long hack in months, if not years. I think the last time I hacked off-property was last year when Arwen was still eventing.

We headed up the hill and through the woods, Sunè leading most of the way. She was on a loose rein and totally chilled. I like riding ponies that belong to eight-year-olds. She tried half-heartedly to nap a few times but quickly realised that that wasn’t going to fly with me.

The view from the top of the hill was incredible. Then sings my soul, O Saviour God, to Thee!

We got a little lost heading back down, but quickly figured out our mistake and found the right road. Bahroe was being absolutely amazing. At this point he started to take the lead a few times.

Then we headed back down along the teff field, finishing the loop back along the road to the gate. Sunè and I escorted Bahroe safely back to the gate – I think he would have been fine, but I didn’t want to abandon them on the road. My own escort turned up in my bakkie around this time, impeccably timed to follow me back home with the hazards on. The trucks are ridiculous on our road.

Sunè was still bouncy and cantered much of the way home. We only had one little incident when I looked down at the road and suddenly there was a cobra in it. Gotta love Africa. I don’t think Sunè even saw it; I spun her to the side away from it just as it sat up and began to flare its hood, and it shot off into a culvert, almost as unnerved as I was.

Sunè is pretty flattened now, but I think our ride was a hilly 10-12km more or less, so I’m pretty impressed with the fat little schoolie. She was impeccably behaved and I had a blast. And she gets the next three days off. And I get a bubble bath because I still had three horses to ride after that and my feet are killing me.

How great is our God. Glory to the King.

Sunlands Training Show

Here are some numbers for this show:

8 horses.

1 four-berth.

1 two-berth.

4 trips; one for the two-berth, three for the four-berth.

6 saddles.

Nowhere near enough girths.

No dedicated horse-holders. (We’re very thankful our horsies almost all tie up).

Not one single fall.

One child’s round that I didn’t get to watch. An experienced child, so that was OK.

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nobody else seemed to need this fence, so… we commandeered it, and chaos ensued

We arrived at 6:45am, in good time for our 8:00 class. This was a good thing, since while we had enough fitting saddles for Sune, Milady, Liana, and Savanna, it turned out that we did not have enough girths. A frequent problem when most of the riders are on a bit of a shoestring budget and thus borrowing riding school stuff. We decided to just swap saddles between Milady and Savanna and wing it, so off we went; Liana and her kid, Milady and K, Sune and L, and bareback Savanna following me and garnering some odd looks from spectators.

It was Milady’s first show, as well as L’s, and I was worried about them for about five minutes until I could see that they both had everything under control. All four of us were in the first two classes, the 50cm and 60cm, and there was some friendly ribbing. My money was on Liana and her kid; the kid loyally trusted me to win on remedial Savanna, and I think K and L were simply hoping to survive. In the end we all were wrong. Milady jumped a confident, quiet round, well-ridden by K, except both of them sort of weren’t looking at the second element of the combination and had a run-out there. Liana’s kid rode so, so nicely with excellent lines and position, but tapped the pole at number two. Savanna got to number two and then threw a hissy fit, whereupon she got a hiding and finished the track much better than she ever has before, taking a couple of poles. I was very happy with that – it’s the first time she’s actually gotten around without a leader.

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so confident!

Then Sune and L charged around in a perfect clear round, despite L firmly believing she wouldn’t remember her track, and thus handing all of our butts to us. There was more of the same in the 60cm; Milady, Liana and Sune all went clear in the first round, and Savanna had a pole, but I was very happy with her because she was confident, forward and relaxed. In the jump-off Milady and Liana had a pole each, but both their rounds were smooth and confident, so I was happy. Then little Sune and L charged around clear once again, albeit out of the placings because I had given them a Speech about going safely and building confidence.

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all smiles ❤ ❤ ❤

Then it was off to the working riding and small jumping classes. Trooper and E kicked off the little classes by trotting sweetly around the ground poles, although E kind of forgot that fence 3b was a thing, but it was a good warm-up for their working riding round. Poor little Sune was shunted straight off to be ridden by her kid in the 30cm and 40cm. Regrettably, the track was exactly the same as it was last month, and Sune’s kid is one super-smart little eight-year-old, so it wasn’t very good practice for remembering the track since he remembered it perfectly from last time. Either way, that led to a clear in the 30cm and an unlucky pole down in the 40cm.

Trooper and E absolutely knocked it out of the park in the working riding. Their course was fairly technical and all-inclusive: walking underneath an arch, then through a bendy little lane, halt and pick up a basket and walk around a marked-out circle on the ground before returning the basket, trot the bending cones, trot the trotting poles, walk through another lane, walk over a mat, go to a pillar and ring a bell. Troopy didn’t look at a thing, not even the mat. E didn’t quite kick him hard enough to trot all of the trotting poles, but their bending poles were absolutely perfect. I couldn’t be happier. And I haven’t seen E smile as much as when she’s around Trooper, ever. Mission accomplished; Trooper’s doing what only a horse can do for a teenage girl.

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picture perfect

Midas and VT’s kid also did a stunning test, Midas’s first. He did everything so perfectly except for the mat, where he just gently stopped and had a look. I popped in at that point and stepped onto it in front of him, and then he went over very happily and quietly. VT’s kid rode really very well and I was happy with the pony too; at the very least I know he’ll be excellent on a lead rein, and he’s quite good enough to get a solid mark off lead. I think she would have gotten him over it eventually.

Then poor Midas and the kid had to go charging straight off to the showjumping to jump Midas’s first 70cm. It was a speed class and I was calling dressage tests so I wasn’t there to tell the kid to go slowly, so obviously they tore around in a very confident clear round, coming fourth against some truly enormous horses (the whole of Team Nissan seemed to show up that day). So I couldn’t be much happier with that.

Somewhere around this point, Dad returned with the second load of horses, very timeously too, I might add. Ash was one of them, and her kid had plenty of time to trot around the warmup (and almost get killed by some of the aforementioned truly enormous horses – luckily Ash is a sassy little boss mare) before going in for their test. Savanna’s kid was also warming up and Savanna was being impressively calm and relaxed. I dragged them both down together so that I could keep an eye on each one and pushed Savanna and her kid in first.

Both boys were having their first show (apart from our little training show), and they both impressed me greatly. There were a few good moments and a couple of wobblies (Savanna broke in her first centreline and her kid kicked her to trot too early a few times; Ash didn’t really get the memo about having to halt on her last centreline and her kiddo’s legs were a bit flappy) but neither of them got lost or had any huge disasters. Ash and her kid had 64% and Savanna and her kid had 59%, which they both were happy with. Both have lots of work to do before they can ride anything other than a SANESA Riding Proficiency test, but I’m confident that they can go out and enjoy themselves at SANESA Level 0 next year. If they work hard they can get good marks, too.

At this point I was supposed to have been in the working hunter/stadium eventing arena on Jamaica about 45 minutes earlier, and had resigned myself to missing that one, but the judge there kindly let me go anyway. I cantered him around the warmup once (wearing Savanna’s bridle because his bridle was on Ash; I’m very grateful for his unfussy little mouth), popped over a jump, tied a knot in the end of the TREMENDOUSLY long reins, and off we went. The track was only about 60-70cm at the biggest, but fairly challenging, including a couple of banks down, a bank up, steps, a dyke with all three fences in it, a little ditch, a combination, some brush, and a whole lot of straw bales and rustic fences and such. He had a big wobble at the first fence because it was next to a water jump, but once he realised he didn’t have to do the water jump he was quite OK. He had another wobble at the brush the first time, but after jumping it once he jumped it nicely the second time. Somewhere around fence 10 he hit his stride and started to enjoy himself, as did I. I really want to event again.

Then we had a little break before going back to the warmup to climb awkwardly over the oxer and wait our turn in the 90cm competition. At this point, I had reached that mildly delirious stage near the end of a show with lots of kids, and could not really care less what size the jumps were. I just walked the related distances in the class so that I knew the strides and watched somebody go so that I knew where to go, and in we went. After cruising on a bigger stride in the stadium eventing arena, it was quite natural to send Jamaica more forward, adding only one stride in the related distances (which I don’t mind since he is almost a pony jumping on horse strides), and thus the round was very smooth. We landed on the wrong leg a few times and I was slow to correct it, but he still jumped every fence right out of his stride. There were a bunch of puddles in the arena and one of them was right in front of the second element of the combination, so he chipped in a stride looking at that, but the rest of it was fantastic.

It was the only clear round, too. So we got a big fat red ribbon.

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When I schooled him for this show and we couldn’t get a good stride to this one jump I literally remember thinking to myself, “Well, God, You got me through my Module 4 and gave me a very confident ride in that exam, so I’m not asking for anything more right now; I can lose my nerve again now,” but God’s reply seemed to be, “I’m not done working miracles yet, My daughter.” The 1.00m didn’t look all that big when we watched it as we were packing up.

Dad, meanwhile, had already shipped Milady, Liana and Trooper back home, and returned within half an hour of the end of my class to take the rest of us. We were all happily home by four in the afternoon, although how Dad did it is between him and God because I sure don’t know.

This year has been all about what God can do. Even at this little training show, He helped us to run it so smoothly despite not having enough tack or horseboxes or horses. Somehow He gave me an excellent ride and helped all the newbies to have a good show and – best of all – all three my rising stars got to ride, having somehow scraped together sponsorships and kindness from various sources to be able to have enough show clothes, entry money, and horses. All three of them. I am so, so happy to be a witness to the majestic spectacle of what God does when you give it all to Him.

So here’s a few more numbers for you to wrap up this post.

17 classes.

3 rising stars.

Innumerable great supporters.

And one amazing God.

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L and Sune, Milady and K, Trooper and E

Glory to the King.

Summer’s Here

The arrival of some beautiful rain has transfigured the face of our landscape from the dormant browns of winter to vibrant life.

And no matter that I’ve been living here since I can remember, it still takes my breath away. So do these, my three dance partners. Faith must be about Arwen’s height already. I expect her to mature about Thunder’s height and probably also quite solid.

The damp earth has helped eliminate the various coughings, sneezings and nose-runnings of all the allergic horses.

Longer days make for those stunning late afternoon rides in the golden light. I teach until at least 5:30 most evenings now.

Lullaby is back on fighting form, her old, happy, bouncy self. She’s even off her joint supplement. She led the way on this hack up the big hill.

Liana and her kid followed. I’m so honoured to be a small part of providing kids with experiences like these.

Jamaica also went hacking with Vastrap and his kid, and behaved impeccably.

The big hill is my favourite place for hacking. It’s interesting, has amazing views, and is good work for the horses too.

Clouds have changed the skyscape, making the world seem bigger. I don’t know why, but the sky is a deeper blue in summer around here.

We now have a sign. Each step forward feels like a miracle, probably because it is one; we depend so entirely on our Jesus, and He never lets us down. This year testifies to that.

Our yard is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

This is the place where my soul can’t sing loud enough to Abba Father. Where the miracle happens. As an aside, the footing held up impressively well in the rain. We’ve been able to jump every day.

For some reason the sky is a lot smaller in town, but it’s still beautiful. My personal space is about 228ha.

That’s more like it.

Sunrises haven’t quite reached the height of splendour yet, but there’s something more subtly majestic in their muted colours.

The jacaranda tree is in bloom.

The long one-sided love story of God and I starts with sunrises. Years and years ago, since I can remember thinking about bigger things, it was the beauty of the world that convinced me that there had to be Something out there. I felt its presence; something dynamic, vibrant, powerful, and very much alive. I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t have a name for it, but I found it utterly irresistible. I longed to know it. My longing was inexpressible; I wanted to feel it, to be drawn into it.

And the greatest miracle of them all was discovering that this amazing Thing was not only alive, it was Someone, and He had a Son, and He had given that Son up for me. The power that made the wind and stars, He wants me to talk to Him, to cry out to Him, to love Him. The sunrises stopped being splendid creations of some distant and mysterious magnificence and became something more: an intimate, personal expression of love from the God Who never lets go.

Glory to the King.

Miracle Season

We started off our first SANESA season as a yard the way we always do: a little clueless, a lot scruffy, and ready to give absolutely everything we had.

At our first qualifier, I didn’t even know that SANESA working riding tests are given at the judge’s box instead of at the class itself. My poor teenager and I had to beg a friendly stranger in the warmup arena for her copy, and skimmed it in three seconds flat. One of the little kids fell off and injured herself. I missed both performance riding classes. The showing judge patronized my teenager for not trimming her horse’s ears, and Zorro got eliminated for three refusals (at the third fence).

The second qualifier was a little better. I had to panic to find a horse for K because of a glitch in her previous mount’s paperwork. We were late for my first class and I warmed my four-year-old up for all of one minute, shunting him into the arena just in time, bug-eyed and uncertain. Zorro got eliminated for forgetting the course. But Vastrap came third, and K won her class. And then Liana’s kid fell off again. But at least this time she waited until after the finish flags.

By the third qualifier, things started to look up. Vastrap was placing in every class he jumped; we would get someone into Finals after all. I got eliminated for failing to jump the A element of a combination after refusing at the B element. Liana’s kid fell off the day before, but stayed on throughout the actual show – and remembered her tracks. Pennie won two of her three classes and our new little lead rein kid placed third at her first show ever.

At the fourth qualifier, all snot promptly broke loose. Pennie was dead lame with a mystery issue we couldn’t get to the bottom of. She had to withdraw. Midas and Lancelot had stops and poles down all over the place and Vastrap took a silly rail. K forgot her course for the first time in living memory, her shot at finals slipping out of her grasp. My lead rein kid was late into her class because I was riding dressage in the arena next door and her poor mother almost had a heart attack. Amid this chaos, Liana’s kid pulled out a fabulous score in the prix caprilli and popped into finals. She didn’t fall off even once.

Then came Finals, and that was brilliant. The two little kids put in the rides of their lives, which made it irrelevant that neither of them went through to Nationals. Zorro the remedial stopper ate up a difficult track and leapt into ninth place (of over 40 riders), taking his rider from her first Finals to her first Nationals.

And Pennie, newly sound again, won her class.

And then everything started to fall to bits again. Pennie went lame. Hardly had she recovered than G went lame and was stuck in a Moon-Boot for four weeks while I wrestled with her fiery little pony, trying to install brakes. Zorro, at least, made up for his chaos early in the season and behaved just fine, but his kid battled stomach issues. Two weeks before Nationals, G came out of her boot and could finally ride again. Two days before Nationals, Pennie stopped so hard G fell into a fence, necessitating three stitches to her chin. One day before Nationals, it rained and rained and rained, turning horses into mud monsters and arenas into bogs.

We took a deep breath, bathed Zorro in the sunrise and made it happen. He jumped a fabulous round for his kid and they finished happily in the middle of the pack. We were delighted, and so so proud. Then Pennie jumped, conservative and just a little off her rhythm, taking a cheap pole down. We had showjumping the next day. None of us were feeling confident.

It was about this point where I threw up my hands and said, “God, I hope You have an idea of what You’re doing, because I don’t!”

He did. He was doing something incredible: teaching us that nothing is impossible with Him.

Brothers and sisters, our God is in charge. We had our first season, we had drama, we had blood, sweat and tears, we had lameness and falls, we had breakdowns and meltdowns, we kept trying, we hung on, we watched, and we saw miracle upon miracle as He worked mightily in and for every single one of my kids, regardless of where they finished. And I cannot wait for next SANESA season so that I can watch, again, what He does for us through our horses and our wonderful, crazy sport.

This last miracle was just the cherry on top.

Pennie and G are double national champions.

Glory to the King.

Q3 Goals Recap

I’m so honoured to be working with these gifts from God. ❤

Arwen

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  • Get points for Elementary Medium. Almost there! We need ten, and we have nine. I’m pretty sure our next show in the end of October will get us that last one, since we have been just breaking 60% now, with the exception of the disastrous test last time. Our scores have slowly crept up, but it’ll be at the next show that we see if our hours of schooling have made an appreciable difference yet.
  • Don’t mess up a show riding/show hack class. 
  • Jump a graded 80cm round.
  • Do some cross-country lessons and/or go drag hunting. I want to do this so badly, but logistics may not allow. We’ll see. It’ll be fun to do the boxing day hunt, maybe with a friend. God willing, though. I don’t think we’ll go back to eventing; I can’t justify the expense on a horse who isn’t really going to be fast enough to be good even at the lower levels, although I’m not denying that we had so much fun during our eventing year.

Looking towards next year, I’m still going up and down a bit between continuing with the dressage – either trying to improve the Elementary or give EM a shot – or going into showing again, since she is really good at it. It’ll depend on the logistics. Either way, my dragon gives me hope. ❤

Midas

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  • Hack alone and in company.
  • Be quiet at shows. 
  • Compete up to 70cm showjumping at training shows. Next show! He’s schooling it at home under VT’s kid and the two of them have been cruising around 60cm.
  • Compete up to Prelim at training shows.
  • Compete at the Nooitie shows. 
  • Go cross-country schooling. The training shows we go to have a nice working hunter/stadium eventing course, and I’m considering popping him around it myself at the next one, depending how busy the show looks (spoiler: it looks very busy). Again, eventing isn’t really on the cards for us next year, so I’m OK with not achieving this one.

Midas is on the market and I do hope he sells quite quickly. It’ll be very sad to see him go; he’s one of the highest quality ponies I’ve had, and so much fun both to ride and to teach on. But it’s time for him to find his own little person to have adventures with now.

Faith

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  • Stand for grooming and farrier.
  • Lead and tie up. 
  • Box well. Like a dream! Took a while, though.
  • Be good to bath. 
  • Be good to catch. 
  • Show in-hand. There don’t seem to be any Nooitie shows for the rest of the year, so that’s been blown out of the water a bit. Next time we have space in the box for a quiet show or outing, I may drag her along.
  • In spring, lunge.
  • In November/December, do the groundwork and have a rider on, just sitting.
    She goes into training in November. I don’t think the groundwork will take long, although I am going to take my time about it, since she’s smart and already knows me well. In fact I could probably have at least walk/trot under saddle by December, but I’m not going to push it. If I condition her carefully now it could have repercussions for the rest of her career.

I am SO excited to put Faith into training at last. She’s starting to look so beautiful and behave so maturely, and this little gift from God has so much to teach me.

Jamaica

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  • Hack reliably in company
  • School Novice dressage. Done! I haven’t actually ridden the tests, but that’s not really relevant for him.
  • Jump 90cm graded. We can’t afford graded right now, but I am totally calling this done. We jumped 90cm at a training show and the course wasn’t soft and he absolutely killed it. Good boy!

Next year, our plan is to work towards jumping Module 5 (1.00m… eep) towards the end of the year. To do that, we’re going to do equitation and jumping at SANESA, so we’re starting to work through the 90cm equitation tests.

Lancelot

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  • Reliably do long hacks alone, in company, and wherever without any drama his kid won’t laugh off.
  • Do a training show or two at Prelim dressage. 
  • Consistently jump graded at 70cm, preferably clear. 

Lancey has been taken out of training and passed on to his kid because he’s become such a solid citizen. One of the most pleasant horses in the yard – and a firm favourite with everyone, both to ride and just to be around. It’s hard not to feel loved in his presence.

Trooper

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  • Do training showjumping shows, up to about 60cm. We’re not going to push him for this right now. I think he’s just not ready for it – because every time we aim him at a jump he crashes through it and knocks his legs and gives himself a fright, poor chap.
  • Do training dressage shows, up to Prelim.  He’s schooling Prelim at home, but has done walk/trot at shows. Again, I’m not pushing it, because his plans have changed. See below.
  • Be as safe as a house on hacks, mostly in company.
  • Be as safe as a house on the ground. Anybody can handle him, including the tiniest of kids, without any trouble.
  • Be fully quiet at shows. He’s just the same at shows as he is at home – with his buddies, away from his buddies, in the stable, wherever!

Trooper originally was supposed to be a resale project, but with Stardust still being in rehab from her injury and a big hole left in the riding school with her being out of work, as well as Lisna being sold, we’ve ended up keeping him for E. They’re a solid match and looking forward to their first show together this month, too.

Thunder

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  • School all the Novice work, ready to compete next year. We basically only school Novice work except when we’re test riding and polishing for shows these days. His lengthenings are our main focus, mainly because I’m really no good at them, but they’re coming on well. He’s done most of the leg-yields and counter canter, and the figures are easy enough. We rode the whole of Novice 1 quite nicely this week and will continue to work through the Novice tests as we go on.
  • Jump 70cm courses with confidence. Fast he is not, but confident, definitely. He doesn’t bat an eye.
  • Do our pre-flatwork short hacks calmly. I’ll be honest, I haven’t really worked on these. Mostly because my time with him is so much fun that I’m being a little bratty and not wanting to ruin it by going for a hack and having a bolt. However, I’m going to start on them next week. We’re doing so much better together lately and I feel like if he does bolt I can stop him now. I’m also going to hack at the end of a session instead of at the beginning, so that his brain is engaged by then.

I’m excited for Thunny’s future. My morning rides on him are almost always therapeutic; we get lost in the dance, and he seems to enjoy it just as much. He’s even turning into a good citizen lately, who stands quietly in the stable and stands tied to the horsebox at shows and just generally behaves pleasantly. I love him to pieces. ❤

Further up and further in. Glory to the King.

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Momentuous Update

So, we have had a very busy and eventful two weeks – mostly in a good way, though.

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summer sunrises… love letters from God ❤

With SANESA Nationals being this week, we’ve got our hands pretty full gearing up for SANESA and CHG championships, as well as preparing kids, ponies and youngsters for next year’s competitive season. The first SANESA qualifier is usually in February, so we only have a few shows left to get all our little newbies ready for their first serious competition.

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Olive is sitting that one out, although her soundness has improved in leaps and bounds. We have been bathing horses like nobody’s business. They were all so grubby and sticky and nasty after a long winter. Our greys are finally looking grey again instead of yellow.

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Not least Magic, who has greyed out so much with this latest shedding. One of these days he will be all white except for his grey knees. He’s been having such a relaxed life that I’d forgotten how anxious he really can be until I bathed him in the new wash bay and, to add insult to injury, discovered that he is allergic to horse conditioner, too. Not as allergic as he was to mine (and I have really sensitive skin, too) but it stung a bit. Sorry chap. This is why he’s a lawn ornament.

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One month down the line, Emmy has gone from a rather straggly and dull 2/10 to a vibrant and active 3/10. All going well, she will go into training on the first of November. I look forward to working with her; she’s an amiable, personable little mare and she looks like fun. Could be fiery, but that may just be the Stud Time talking.

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I led a very long hack yesterday, seated upon my trusted dragon. I was worried about this hack because it was a solid two hours and we had little kiddies and novices with us in our group of seven, but it went really, really well. Even Lulu’s tiny kid (second from the front), who is not yet six, enjoyed it hugely. We did have one slightly heat exhausted rider but she wasn’t even bad enough to get this first aider excited. Nothing that two minutes in the shade and a drink of water didn’t fix.

The dragon herself was fabulous. I had the double on because sometimes dragons need a curb, but most of the way I was only holding my snaffle rein. At one point Blizzard the dog disappeared into the bushes and Arwen and I had to go rescue her; she was enthusiastic heading away from the group and maniacal heading back, but we handled it.

Arwen is stuck with hacking for the next little while. A farrier error left her feet very tender on hard surfaces for two weeks solid before our last show. I took her anyway because she was sound on grass and, as expected, sound on the deep surface at the show; but she was unfit and hadn’t been schooled for two weeks so our test was horrible. We managed fourth out of six, but the lowest mark of our entire career. Oh well. At least it was a completion. Trot sets in the maize fields for now until her feet regrow and we can use the arena again.

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Savanna went to a training show a couple of weeks ago and did the 50cm and 60cm. She was much better than last time, but did fly backwards during the first class when number seven was a bit scary for her taste. I think I could have gotten her through it, but the course builder bossed another rider into giving me a lead, and after that she was just fine. Her flatwork is also much better; bend and connection are now firmly established. Although she can pull a bit and then I definitely feel her size in relation to mine. Sad when 16hh is miles and miles too big for you.

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Faithy has put on a wonderful growth spurt and finally turned into something more closely resembling a horse. We have even managed uphill balance, yay! I was quite worried about that at one point. She also has amazing hair now and the best attitude ever. She also goes into training in November. I can’t wait.

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Zorro has Nationals this weekend, and I’m stoked with how well he’s been going for Z-kid. They jumped around a quite challenging stadium eventing course at the last training show without batting an eyelid, including banks, dykes, brush, and bales. I don’t think there will be anything much worse in the working hunter this weekend and I’m optimistic for them. They managed to place last time despite a pole down, so if he can just behave and jump clean, they might surprise themselves. This horse was remedially stopping earlier in the year, so either way, I’m absolutely honoured to have witnessed their amazing progress. ❤

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Champagne’s been a bit up and down. Her good days have been really, really good – to the tune of riding full Prelim tests – but her bad days are fairly bad. I find they are very much connected to my mood on the day, even when I think I’m hiding it well. Trust the anxious horse to be the most sensitively and intuitively connected to the emotional states of others. We plan on taking her on her first outing, accompanied by Jamaica for comfort, this month. I think she’ll be OK, but I also think I’ll push her full of Good as Gold beforehand.

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Milady has been as sound as a bell lately and she and K are progressing in leaps and bounds. K plans to do equitation and showjump her at SANESA, and I think Milady is going to be a lovely showjumper. She is quiet and brave and quite careful now that she’s figured out where the legs go, and even very chill about fillers. I’m excited for them.

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Lady Erin weaselled her way into the blog by being adorable. She will be one year old in October and is already good to box, bath, lead, tie up, groom, and so on – she’s got a rather boring two years of being a youngster in a field ahead of her. I wish she’d shed the coat so that she can look a bit better.

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I schooled Pennie during September because G had torn a ligament in her foot, as you do one month before Nationals. Pennie and I do not get along. She is an opinionated chestnut mare who is used to being ridden by a confident teenage showjumper with a cold seat. I am a timid dressage rider with a hot seat. We spent the entire month installing brakes. This, however, has paid off and all was going very well until G faceplanted into a fence off her yesterday, earning three stitches and almost giving her mother and I heart failure. God must have an amazing plan with this SANESA season, because He’s sure making it interesting for them.

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This is Titan, who hasn’t gotten much blog space because he’s just been growing up here for a year and a half. He arrived as a little yearling and has grown into a little three-year-old. We call him Teddy most of the time because he isn’t really big enough for Titan just yet, but he will also go into training in November. He’s a little Arab with an adorable personality. He’s one of the ones that lost vast amounts of condition during August, but I almost have him fixed again now.

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Lancey was also one of the skinny ones and his skinny-ness has been rather persistent, but I’m finally getting the weight back on him now. Meanwhile he’s not competing for the moment, having a little break and just schooling with Z-kid until I can get him nice and fat again. Z-kid is still learning but Lance is trying to be a good little dressage horse for her and they’re progressing quite nicely.

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Mom and VT continue to be the best of friends. Mom doesn’t ride, but he doesn’t need her to. He just needs cuddles and carrots from her and she can supply both in abundance.

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For all her spookiness, Champagne really isn’t bad over fences at all and seems to enjoy the odd break from dressage.

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Blizzard and Eagle are settling into their new home, so far without any hiccups. They travelled great and seem to be behaving themselves really well. I trust them under saddle, but I was a little worried about their inexperience moving and travelling. Their calm natures (and the fact that they’ve been together since they were born) came through for them.

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We said goodbye to our beloved David.

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Jamaica and I jumped our first 90cm at the training show. Honestly, I was so tired that day that I didn’t really have the energy to be nervous, but obviously that was part of God’s plan because I ended up hardly being nervous at all. We tapped the first pole because we were both kind of asleep, but cruised easily around the rest of it without much difficulty. Thank you Jamaica. He is always happy to pop around at a snail’s pace even though he likes to go fast, even when it’s much harder work to jump. So happy. I really didn’t think we’d do it this year.

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After something of a chaotic week, Thunder had three solid days off before his last show, which is not really recommended for babies, but off we went. He tried so, so hard for me. I got on him and he was a little hyper but he put his nose down and tried his heart out. It paid off, too. We were fourth in Prelim 2 but with 66.8%, which was nice. And we won Prelim 3 with 67.9% in very, very good company. I was quite startled because the competition really was strong, but I was so grateful to him because he really didn’t owe it to me. Thanks buddy ❤

The best part of all was how hard he tried, which left me grateful and happy even if we’d come last. But it was cool that he won these bandage liners, which make him look like a fancy expensive dressage horsie.

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Glory to the King.