There be monsters in them there barrels!

And the woods, and the grass, and in my trainer's chair. The tractor? A demon. A moving demon that was working on one of the cross country jumps. Clearly, the entire world was out to get her today.

Note to self: On the next trip to Dover Saddlery, buy Saddle Tight. Because we're gonna need it once she's actually fit.

It had to be something in the air. Fiona was not the only thoroughbred in the ring that was convinced an army of chipmunks was descending on us and would kill us all in our sleep if we didn't get away from them immediately. Long, low, and relaxed was not the order of the day. The order of the day was 'OMG DID YOU SEE THAT ITS GOING TO EAT US OH #*((*@&$#&@#$^', followed by me going 'my back is going to hate me for that later'.

At least she's not dirty about it, but did you know that barrel jumps are deadly dangerous? I didn't, but Fiona was more than happy to explain it to me. If nothing else, the girl has scope to spare. Considering we're jumping about 2 feet. But I will give credit when credit is due. The girl is brave. Even if it's scary, even if she's not sure, she'll go. It might not be pretty, but she'll go. And just give it a foot or two of breathing space, to play it safe.



So now I sit with a glass of stout and a bunch of Advil, memorizing my test for the show on Sunday. Clearly, I've lost my mind.