The fair: Monday

I got to Stoneybrook at 7:00 am on saturday. I came in to find Robert preparing feed but I also found that the cart was not finished! It didn't have wheels, or a singletree, or a seat cushion. So I fed while Robert worked on the cart. Then I got back and I held the cart up while Robert tightened the wheels. Chuck came with materials for the seat and Robert build the seat while Chuck put the singletree on. So we got everything slapped together and ready to go.

The trip there was amazingly painful for me. I sat in the back so that it wouldn't be so obvious that I didn't feel like talking. Chuck offered to sit in back in my stead, which was nice. I realized to my dismay that I was going to be sitting in an enclosed space with a smoker. It wound up coming in waves, first the smell, then the next few breaths I got used to it and then it snapped back into my consciousness again. Eventually the periods of being used to it got long enough not to be too bad.

I enjoy a good argument, and I enjoy even more a good discussion, but an argument will do. Chuck has a reputation for being argumentative, and I'll grant you he is contrary but thats not the same. Anyway, over the course of the trip we talked about some things, I enjoyed watching Robert come in and defend my position, often drawing directly from his own experiences making an argument unassailable by those without his same level of background. Robert can be very articulate at times, its nice. I was a little annoyed to watch Chuck then repeat his exact same point, and having proved himself right Robert left it at that.

Once we got on the highway I tried to sieze an opportunity to play one of my favorite games. It goes basically like this:
Take a fairly simple idea and express it with as much precision as possible. You can play it with a more complex idea, but it takes longer and you usually dont finish, which is fine too.
I like this game because in the process of honing in on exactly exactly what you mean you learn a lot by what you have to exclude and how. Its good practice communicating, defining your terms, thinking about the abstract concepts behind ordinary things.

I knew this game would be harder with someone who wasn't used to speaking in this way. It would be harder for me and harder for him but I picked something so simple I thought it wouldn't be a problem. I was wrong. I wont go into the gruesome details but in the end Chuck was shouting at me that what I was talking about was totall bull shit (a quote, by the way) and I was just doing it to be argumentative, that I understood exactly what he meant, agreed with him, etc. He said this several times, got a little louder each time.

I was depressed (and irate). This all seemed to demonstrate that I was only very rarely ever going to be able to play this game again. I've graduated and I wont be around reedies without making a special effort. They'll all be in class and wont have as much time. Later Robert told me that it wasnt worth arguing with Chuck because if you didn't say precisely what you meant he would pick it apart. He's very logical... I dont remember the rest of what he said because my brain started bleeding. Thats what it felt like anyway. As the imaginary blood started diffusing through my cerebral spinal fluid I think I said something to the effect of thats not true, or something, but the aneurysm wiped most of it from my memory. Robert decided I was beyond his ability to help, which was true, and left it at that.

We got Luca into his stall and then discovered that our first class was coming up a lot quicker than we expected. So we got the sawdust out of Luca's mane and brushed him, harnessed him, and they were off. I had to change right away. I was given the impression that I was in much more of a hurry than I actually was. As I was changing and fixing my hair in the bathroom I discovered that there was a dressing room upstairs. Too late! Or so I thought.

I went over and discovered that there was a lot more time and I went back and found the dressing room and fixed myself up some more. I had on very dramatically red (thats how I'm putting it anyway) lipstick and a black strapless gown. Everywhere I went I heard people say to each other "is there a costume contest." One girl in the dressing room asked me if I was going for a title. It took me a second to figure out what that meant but I answered no anyway. She said that she had been her counties princess and that it sucked. She showed me the rest of the dressing room facilities and wished me luck.

The dress was long enough that it trailed a little past my feet. Higher heels would have prevented this but I wore my more comfortable work shoes, black but basically no heel on them. I've walked through mud in high heels, it goes poorly even with my giant feet. What that meant was that everywhere I went I needed to be holding my dress up, so I held my dress in one hand, my duffel bag in the other and my helmet under the arm that was holding my dress. I passed the duffel back off to Chuck. I still didnt have the use of my hands but now my arm wasn't at an awkward angle. It was too hot to don the black velvet helmet and I sat around for a while. Except I didn't sit, what with the dress you know.

There was a bit of excitement for us because with this new harness we had forgotten a noseband. Apparently that is required. Coleen saved the day by finding a childs belt, and we flipped it over to the black side. Cut it off at the right spot and poked a hole in it. It didn't look as bad as you might think. By the end of the day I had forgotten it was there.

Eventually it was my turn in the cart. We had a lot of time to practice driving around. Everyone was very nice to me, told me how nice I looked, etc. It was very soothing since I had been pretty wound up before.

I had watched luca in two of the classes before and was relieved to find that he was behaving allright for me. In the previous classes he had been calling and wiggling and generally making a fool of himself. Robert said that usually at a show he has lots of halter classes first which helps tire and focus him. Anyway, he was being pretty good except that he kept calling to all the belgian drafts in the arena. He and Robert have a lot in common I guess, they both have a thing for the redheads. He was also spooking at the machinery in one end of the arena but mostly he shied away and it wasn't too bad.

Then came the minis. They kept coming and coming and soon the arena was filled with minis. Some were plodding around at speeds only a mini can plod at. Some were zooming around, fast enough to make it hard to keep track of them but not so fast that luca didn't easily outpace them. To my knowledge I didn't squish any, but there were some close calls. One time I was going to turn into the center and started to cut off one of the minis that had been coming up behind us. That was greeted with curses from the driver, who was the same one I nearly ran over a little while before. I smiled and apologized and made a mental note to check behind me, and low to the ground behind me, before making any more turns. One of the things about minis is that they are harder to hear I think. Plus you cant see them in the periphery of your vision like you can a larger horse. I never came even close to running into the belgians, for example.

As it got close to time to go in we started circling near to the gate. It was a lot like a sailboat race, everyone needs to keep moving but everyone wants to be first in the gate. Well, maybe not everyone but we had a special need to get in first. I didnt want to have to pass anyone and Luca was going to go way faster than any of them. Finally we did what you cant do with a sailboat and we stopped as close to the gate as we could without getting in anyones way more than we were willing to. I was chomping at the bit to go in already, so was Luca. Finally the steward waved us in and we were off!

Luca was doing a nice working trot with a minimal reining in. We were circling constantly to keep a good distance between us and the minis. About one small circle for every lap around the arena.

I had been given only two instructions before going in: do what they tell you and have fun. I've heard time and time again Robert stressing to his clients the importance of smiling at the shows. I plastered a big grin on my face and set out to make it as obvious as possible that I was having fun damnit! Its well known that you cant pretend to have copious amounts of fun without actually having fun. I'm no exception. In addition to the grinning I was looking at all the people, nodding at all the ones that made eye contact with me, looking at the lights, looking at the float in the middle, just generally being a tourist. I accidentally dropped the grin a few times at first when Luca had an unexpected surge of speed, or when I realized the reins had been slipping through my fingers. Mostly though, I kept it up. Robert thinks that lip syncing to the music while rocking my head slightly to the beat was going too far. ("...where have all the cowboys gooone?")

Luca threw one buck during our extended trot. The judge didn't see it. They asked us all to line up and I picked a spot on the end of the line like Robert had told me before. Luca stood beautifully after a couple of initial reminders. Although my face was getting tired I kept grinning. Robert told me it was fine, encouraged actually, to talk to the judge. I told her it was my first horse show and that I was pretty excited. I bounced a little in my seat. I was laying it on thick and without shame.

She asked us to back up and I picked up my reins and asked. I didn't ask as loudly as I should have, but normally Luca throws it into reverse with little bidding. This time he didn't, he had been told to stand and stand he was going to do. I kept smiling and brushed him with the whip. Nothing. Kept smiling and tapped him with the whip. Nothing. "Oh, I'm so awkward with this whip sometimes" I said in what I hoped was a bashful voice. Tap Tap Tap until he backed up. Pause then we stepped forward and back into line, I kept smiling.

The judge asked us why our reins were on the furthest hole down on the bit. Fortunately Robert answered before I did because his answer was better than mine. The one on the tip of my tongue was that he hadn't been out for a while. Robert said this is a stallion, and although we use a very light rein on this setting we like to know its there in case there is trouble. She said agreed that we were using a light rein (really?) and she appreciated our concern for everyone's safety. She pointed out though that he is sometimes behind the bit and it gives the impression that the bit is excessively severe. We nodded and she went back to the float. Luca stood with minimal wiggling.

The announcer called out "Ceader Hill Nimrod Luca!" and when I saw the steward standing there with the first place ribbon it occurred to me that was my horsies name and we had won the class! Fortunately for the standing around part I had relaxed into just a pleased smile so I was able to break out a big grin as we walked over to claim our ribbon and little clock and exit the arena. I was still processing what had happened and why as we walked back to the warm up arena. We walked around for a while longer. Took lots of pictures. Apparently I beat Jerry in that class. I'm still not totally sure what that means but I think it was the woman in the antique cart with the sweet, section D, welsh cob. I dont know if luca was better behaved than the others, if we were turned out better or if I just seemed to be getting the most pleasure out of driving in the pleasure driving class.

I changed back into civilian clothes but I had no makeup remover so the long lasting lipstick stayed. Its actually really great stuff, if you keep gloss on it then it doesnt dry out your lips, it didn't come off on the dinner we ate later, didn't smear when hair got stuck to it and then was brushed away from it many many times. The interesting thing about it though was that then I was really really recognisable. When I say this stuff is dramatically red, I'm not kidding, it startles people who know me as a normally-pigmented person.

I was in one more class, I didn't drive but it was the picnic class with one other woman. This woman looked like the most adorable grandmother there ever was. Her cart was antique, her little mini was slightly plump and totally adorable. She even had a shawl that she probably crocheted herself. She had grey hair and the very traditional grandma up-do. I listened to the contents of her picnic basket being read aloud. It was all great grandmother-type stuff. Roberts little wine basket is very nice, no question. The cheese still in the plastic wrapper with the pricetag still on it, thrown in the wine basket seemingly as an afterthought was not stellar. The carrots for the horse idea was cute, the safeway assortment of fruit, still in its plastic container that I held on my lap, apparently didn't measure up. Robert told the judge that I was there because a picnic was no fun without a girl. She said she liked his style and then inspected our picnic basket.

We took second in the class of two. Which was fine, now we had a second place ribbon to complete our collection of the top three ribbon colors. (we also had a 5th place form before we got the "noseband" but no 4th). Luca got just enough point to get his honors in driving. He needed 30, he got thirty. If we make sure to get Alyssa and myself registered as members of the OHA. Robert, bless his heart, thought that the judge just didn't like Luca. Later he found out that the judge thought our cart was supposed to be painted and thus wasn't finished. She wasn't wrong when she said it wasn't finished. Also, not all the floorboards were flush with each other, and a couple of other things that would be nice to fix up.

Pictures will be posted as soon as I get them.