Monday! I love Monday. No, I’m not nuts—well, actually, that’s debatable, but Monday is a day off for the horses and me. Kelly, my working student, runs the show while I do Very Important Things like sleep in past 5 (made it to 5:15 this morning, woot), do laundry, go to the chiropractor and acupuncturist (BLESS THEM!!! I’d bear striking resemblance to a pile of Lincoln Logs gone wrong without them) and chase down all the details that slipped through the cracks during the week. The stuff Lifetime movies are made of, no doubt.
While I work the day away, Cleo gets to bomb around on a longe line. I expected her to be a little pooped—she worked hard last week—but instead she channeled her inner bronco and put on a good show for my camera. I’m hoping this means she’ll be fit and full of vigor in Jersey, though the prospect of being dragged around the National Championships like a teensy toddler on a Thellwell isn’t terribly appealing. Cleo, who is not petite, can be a bit of an ox when she wants to be—here’s hoping I’m in charge.
Because I’m a masochist, I’ve got a full day of lessons tomorrow too, as well as a new working student to train up. My Kelly is heading home to New Hampshire to work for Pam Goodrich, and I’ve got some help for the summer, but I’m on the hunt for full-time help. Because, you know, I don’t have anything else on my plate right now.
ADVERTISEMENT
Cleo will go to work tomorrow, but briefly—just enough to confirm that I am, indeed, the Older and Wiser of the two of us (debatable, actually, but don’t tell her that). I’ll ride the rest of my gang, finish up laundry, pack my stuff and be on the road Wednesday by 5:30 am (here’s hoping) to beat D.C. traffic. Then it’s in the saddle post haste so I can school in the show ring before they close it at 2, then bathe and braid for the jog at 4, then cocktails upstairs at 5:30.
Oh boy!
