A Question Of The Equestrian Plait

I'm a country girl at heart, even though big cities always try to suck me into them. Cities are like sponges. Once you are inside them they don't make it easy to escape. They seem to overload you with dull matters of life, like bills. There are always many more of those in cities. They are expensive places. Good to hide inside away from the crowd. Yet the crowds are vast. Ironic really when one thinks. Vast overcrowded places where no one speaks to anyone unless one has to. Good for tying up one's shoelaces of life I guess. One always seem to be at a starting point in a city or at end game. I always dived in and out as fast I could longing to be in the countryside again.

On this landing from city life. I got very lucky. I hooked a stables with a cottage. Two together in a fine deal. A low price too. Six- hundred quid, I believe was the whack of cash I had to lay on the table each month. The cash not me. I did lay on tables around horses. Usually when they were sick, or other moments like dressing them up for a competition. Peculiar things always happen around horses. Horses seem to attract the good the bad and the ugly. No offence but lure rather strange characters towards them. A bit like I do really.

After I'd moved into my new joint with horses, plus riding equipment. You name it. I had half a hell of allot of bits and pieces. Well, there's bits for this, that and t'other. Worse than bringing children up. I had some of those too. Children, I mean. I multi-tasked the school run within my stable routine. One day multi-tasking became a little wearing. I'd three horses in all at the time. Two large one's and a small pony for my kids to learn to ride. Rocky was the small one's name. I'd rescued him from being carted off with unkind gypsies. He was torn to pieces until he found me. The woman I bought him from for a hundred quid. In dollars, that is fifty bucks thereabouts. Just incase you need a conversion metre. The dollar swings about so much these days it's always worth a quick recall.

My hair stood on end each day. I couldn't even find my hairspray. Was horse land galore. Hay began to land all over the place. Somehow it got stuck on everything. A bit like cats hair does .If you ever had one of those creatures, you will know what I am talking about. I decided I had to either hire a cleaner or a groom to give me a hand. I chose a groom as cleaning an equestrian's cottage is another story. Let alone one with kids too, who are still at school. I placed an ad in a local shop. A local girl telephoned me. Arranged an interview and took the job. I was in the area of Wiltshire, just incase you wondered where on earth I was ? We do tend to move around. Equestrians, I mean. One has to find a stable near a school. School near a house. The three hardly ever balanced together without lots of hunting. People always seemed to be moaning, as to why I was moving around so much. They hadn't a clue. I was a horse woman through and through. No foot no horse. The saying goes. Well, that was me.

My new groom was hired. I had much to get on with. I took a deep breath. At least I would have time to cook dinner for the kids with the extra help. I could take on the finer more detailed parts of horsemanship. Things like plaiting my horses manes and tails. This craft took hours. These are the items I needed. Strong thread, usually purchased from a shop for horses called 'tack' shop. Inside tack shops, all kind of bits and bobs are sold for your horse. Including the right needles for the thread. Scissors for the job. Plus all kinds of other luxurious shampoos. I think it's best to begin with a clean mane and tail. You shampoo your horse first. A complete bath is unnecessary unless you want to. Depends allot on your climate of-course and your pocket. There are all kinds of high end horse items on the market nowadays.

Scissors are of particular importance around horses. One uses all kinds of ropes. Knots. Blankets that could get hooked up on various. Hay-nets. Plus, if you are an equestrian teacher or considering becoming one. It is a good idea to carry a pair of scissors in your own first aid kit when teaching students to ride, or riding yourself. Outdoor riding can be hazardous if one ventures into forests, for example. Horses have ways of surprising one at most unbelievable times. They have inquisitive minds, which is one way of explaining them. This formal introduction to the equestrian craft brings me to the point of stories within the equestrian world.

Life with horses is an ongoing adventure. Whether you are in the wild west,' Texas ' for example. America being full of horse stories, The western movies playing a huge role in cinema. I don't think they would have resonated with the same ambience without horses. Even today horses play a great role in formal ceremonies related to King and country. They are formidable unique animals. Holding keys to unlocking situations which often even we don't understand. They resonate a spiritual telepathy to planet earth. The animal kingdom has intuitive sixth senses, we humans don't fully understand. Predicting disasters, storms. Other hazards. Long before the storm arrives at your door. A sixth sense possession. A sense which only great tribesman, like the American west Indian, may yield to hold. The great Indian chief has many senses, we mere mortals cannot comprehend.

Moving onto a different stance now, so we can dive inside a true story from my equestrian life. Of which, I had to sadly weave myself away from. Through no choice of my own. Paris was the culprit for my departure from the world of equestrianism. Blame it on the French, yet a fine adventure in Paris indeed I had.

My groom Denise began her duties on time each morning which elevated some baggage from my overload. I always seem to have an overload of sorts. I suspect some of us do live life to the full after all. Everything seemed to be floating along nicely including my addition of having extra time to be more precise. Plaiting my horses manes and tails. Indeed, one can plait their tails too. Some people clip horses tails and manes instead. I tended to prefer them to maintain their natural beauty. Clipping is a term for shaving their locks off. I personally do not like shaving their manes or tails. As, for their bodily parts. This is another subject matter in itself. For can be very helpful in the hot weather. Much like clipping a dog. The name being clipping in the horse world too. Providing less thick coat to remain which is always more comfortable for them.

One early morning on waking up at the crack of dawn for it was a competition day. I walked towards the stables besides my cottage to pack up various items before loading 'Picasso'. A horse I was training. I recognised something very strange. I had plaited up ' Picasso's' mane the night before. We were going out to a dressage competition. Preparing everything the night before is advisable. I recognised his mane was all unplaited. The plaits had been undone. I was astonished. I had no time to re-do them before we left base. The Judges eyes would skin me alive with detest. They gave one points for ' good turnout'. I didn't know how this could have happened. Who would have done such a thing? On turning around in fury. I noticed another stable door open from the other stable block.

A lady, who I was not very close to yet, as I hadn't taken my new project with my own stables on until quite recently. Well, that lady was away from her stables. I walked over towards the open stable door. Her horse was not there. My goodness what was going on? I had no phone number for the lady. I looked around to see if her horse had opened the door himself to see if I could find him. In the meantime I also looked for ' Denise'. my new groom, to see if she knew anything about this mornings chaos. I found Denise sitting flooded in tears inside my tack room, which was a small dark room I lit up to store my saddles and other equipment inside. I also made coffee there.

'What's wrong ?' I asked ' Denise ?'' 'I'm so sorry ', she said. 'I unplaited your horses mane. I also let 'Joe', 'Sarah's' horse out of his stable'.

' What on earth did you do that for ' I asked ?

Denise replied, ' I am not really a groom. I have just escaped from the local mental asylum.

Delilah Reddit ( pen name )

Author Yvette Louise Melech

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