Let your heart hold fast/ for this soon shall pass

Attempted to make myself a lungeing circle in the corral yesterday and tried to lunge Tob in there but it was just so drifty it was not worth it. We ended up lungeing on the yard instead, the ground was nice enough to start a little trot. The last trail we did on Tuesday, I started a little trot in straight lines and Tob felt great. I've missed his powerful little strides.

Anyway, this massive snow storm has gotten us all cooped up indoors today, drifts up against all the doors, falling too fast to attempt to shovel it out. We're halfway through February so I hope the snow eases off so I can get some semblance of trot work done before we go back in March.

My jumping student has been back in work for two weeks now and she is increasing trot work daily. Their first show is the end of May so I'd like them both extra ready for that. It's her last season as a junior so we're going to go all out, show on the 'gold' circuit and see what happens.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of pony boy and his favourite attack toy. A blue barrel.

is it time for a change?

I have so many figurative balls in the air right now that I have no idea what direction I will end up taking.

I'm constantly aware of the phrase (or paraphrase) "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." I make the most of what I have and I appreciate that what is happening to me right now is a direct cause of decisions I have made, forks in the road I've taken and (I believe) a healthy dose of luck/karma/hard work paying off.

I came to Canada in 2011, ostensibly to work for the summer. That summer ended up being two years. That two years ended up being applying for permanent residency. When I arrived, I literally had no plans for after that summer. I flew out here blind, as it were, and had decided that fate would sort me out. Well, it did. The only problem is being here, on this continent, there are endless possibilities. It's America, y'all. The land of the free and the home of the brave.

Living in Canada is a postcode for me. I reside here, sure, but my heart is over the border. Just about everything I ever thought I would want or search for, I'm almost certain I have found in the US. That seems crazy, because I'm pretty English. I used to have that sense of superiority about our food, our music, our attutude, our beer, sport and comedy. Typical of people who've never been here, or have never really engaged with the States.

But now? Now I'm hopelessly in love. I know more about American politics than I ever cared to find out about in my own country, even though I voted in the last election. I care more about the struggle for gay rights happening here and Obamacare, because the backdrop in England is now such a depressing mix of (apparent, I realise there is still plenty to struggle for) taken for granted tolerance and the government ripping apart the National Health Service. I feel like the USA has a chance to actually become its own hype. People my age are moving in the right direction.

Maybe I'm a traitor, but I've been seduced. It started in Boston 7 years ago, was fueled by the rest of New England and sealed with New York's startling charms last month.

I study baseball and football like they're school subjects. I listen to classic rock stations and they play enough Queen, Rod Stewart and Clapton to keep me happy. I've discovered many of Vermont's microbreweries and particularly Woodchuck Cider to keep my hipster drink jones satisfied. I've been to the Maine coast and eaten lobster next to the harbour it was caught from. I've lost myself in improv and sketch comedy, happily becoming aware of the links between the US and UK scenes.

Most importantly? I once dreamed of riding western, cowboy hat, chaps and spurs, demystifying those shank bits, settling in the comfort of the saddle, having that connection with a horse through the lightest of touches in its mouth. Moving cattle around, learning pivots and sliding stops from a simple 'whoa'.

Bonfires and beers, tailgates, starlit nights, crickets singing, barbecues and dances, dusty roads and sweet mown hay.

I have that and it's a good life. I'm very grateful that I can balance my training with my other interests. I'm lucky indeed.

Getting on with it

I started Toby back in work last month but after a week of walking out on the roads, the polar vortex poleaxed us and a combo of icy roads, horrifically low temps and ridiculous winds prevented going further with that.

So, once the vortex relaxed its grip, I began again. We've just finished a week of 20 minute up to 40 minute walks out on the snowy roads. Next week I will step it up.

Things we have encountered that are not scary to Tob:

An 18 wheeler tractor trailer

A skidoo on the road

Falling in a snowdrifted ditch (this scared me slightly)

Losing a rein (again, little nervy for me)

Things we have encountered that ARE scary to Tob:

The cows he lived with last spring

A boy pushing a 4 wheeler down the road but way ahead of us

Falling in a ditch the first time we did it - he bucked disgustedly.

Also I rode him bareback for the first time yesterday. The snow was deep, the sun was setting and I had just watched 'Happythankyoumoreplease' by Josh Radnor and I was feeling inspired and hopeful. He was fab. Probably done it before but for me, it was a big deal.

One month to go

4 weeks til I'm back training. We're on the trail route to fitness. Temperature, wind and ice allowing, I'm aiming to ride 5x a week, roadwork to get his legs in shape and then we can move on from there.