On trial

I have to admit, I have never done this before. Or, to be honest, anything remotely like this.
But let me introduce myself - I offer you me, with nothing to hide, on a full two week's trial, vetting included.

As you may have already guessed, I rather pride myself on being a 'horsey person'. What I am less proud of is my never-ending plunge towards failure in such horsey matters. For example, I took the Wayward Child (who, incidentally, is not in fact a child, but a horse) schooling today after feeling mightily inspired by the standard of the dressage at the Pony Club area competition, only to come away with that sense of doom that accompanies the fact that my seven year old is never going to grow up enough even to get past the pot plants that the organisers placed around 'A' in each arena.

Normally I would cheer myself up by taking the Irish Cob for a gallop, but I was needed elsewhere, and so the downwards spiral continues...

The Wayward Child is a beautiful horse. No-one can dispute his talent, his paces, his build... Unfortunately, he puts his natural advantages to the sole use of trying to unseat his clinging rider, or at least to scare anyone else who might offer to help me school him away.

But let's put such depressing matters aside - it's summertime, and, as Gerswin so cheerily said 'the livin' is easy'. The sun is out, the rain might just hide behind the clouds for a couple of days, and what's more, the summer show has come out of hibernation. Showjumps are in the air (in a completely non-literal sense, or at least until that madly out-of-control ex racehorse that the Inefficient Wannabe rides enters the ring), the dressage boards have been whitewashed (and perhaps even polished, judging by that spook-inducing shine that reflects with the sun) and the ponies are plaited and ready to go.

However, it is my duty to inform you that even the silver lining that is summertime brings with it a big, fat raincloud. Because, you see, with the showjumps comes the misery that is being eliminated at the first fence because your horse is suddenly terrified of the coloured fillers that he barely looks at at home, with the dressage comes the wonky centre line that can ruin the whole test, and with the plaited ponies comes the Ultra Competitive 'Super' Mum and the inevitable spoiled child, plus the disagreements when the judge prefers the 'Super' Mum's archrival's daughter's Welsh Section A to her own. Yes, as demoralising as it all sounds, summer is not all good.

The main bug I have with summer is the sheer volume of flies that suddenly come out of nowhere. My horses are a like a gourmet restaurant - whether I have doused them in so much fly spray that they actually need resusicating afterwards or not, the nasty little nightmares seems to find a convieniently uncovered corner to feast on. There is a purpose to this rant in the form of advice to all you horse people - please take a moment just to spray.

Despite all the problems with summer, I suppose one must remember that it is still summer. I wish you all the best of luck with your competitions these holidays, and for the lucky ones who have found a way to escape from the show-ring, make the most of your happy hacking before some sad soul drags you into the world of woe that is the summer show.