Last year, an amazing client presented me with an opportunity—to find a young horse for me to develop, and to share in the expenses of the journey. It's the first time anyone's offered me a shot like this, and after I finished blubbering like a moron, the search was on.

Ella and I kicked off 2016 in the first CDI-W of the year. She felt absolutely amazing in the warm-up, so energetic and keen to my aids, the best I've ever had her. I feel great about the amount of fitness work we did in the fall—we even got an award for the fittest and healthiest horse, so it's not just me that thinks she looks incredible!—and I feel frustrated that we didn't do very well.

As usual, we've arrived in Florida, and everything has gone a little sideways.

Everyone is fine, no calamities. But between a few Naughty Baby Squirrel moments and some rogue skin crud, it's been a colorful week. My Young Rider student, Kristin, is here taking part in Robert Dover's Horsemastership Week, and I've gotten to watch a little, as well as be in the presence of a large collection of teenage girls. It's reminding me that a) I'm getting old, fast; but also b) kids have their own way of working through, and describing, their world.

I came home from the National Finals and braced for impact. Two things happen to me every autumn: first, things slow down. People give their horses, and themselves, a break, and it means that I don't teach as much; combine with the holidays, and my whole world hits the brakes.

A collection of any of the number of things that get said while riding at my farm on any given day:

Dude. Dude. Dude. DUDE. 

Listen: I'm sorry. I really am. But this is the hand you were dealt. This is how it's going to be. The sooner you accept this, the sooner I put you back in your field and give you a cookie.

By all means, keep whining. But the only person making your life hard right now is you.

My right leg is not. coming. off. Get used to it.