After riding for more than thirty years, I have a lot of opinions about riding arenas, about barns, and about horse care in general.Even so, I’ve never actually built one myself.No problem.The internet has a wealth of information these days.
Unfortunately, you can’t get on social media and watch a single video about horses without watching someone telling the poster that they’re an idiot, that they’re abusing horses, or that their perfectly normal horse is lame.People online have almost as many unfounded opinions when you start asking about how to build a riding arena or how to best manage horses in a barn or a pasture.
At the very least, they don’t agree on anything.
Some people want the horses to be free to roam and interact with one another.Others suggest barn setups should be arranged more like feed lots for cows, where the herd can lounge in one spot and then walk over and poke their heads through individual feed slots to eat hay, preventing waste.Those people haven’t watched a horse get bullied by a mean boss mare or stick their leg in between two perfectly normal fence posts and snap it...just because the wind blew.They probably haven’t had a horse that’s insulin resistant and can founder from eating too much grass, either.
Some people will tell you that the barn isn’t nice at all unless it’spristine.They talk about not hanging blankets over stall doors or not having grooming racks that are out and visible.These same people probably have grooms sweeping three times a day and a swiffer whose only job it is to sweep for cobwebs on the daily.Since horses poop where they eat, in my opinion, pristine’s an unattainable goal—unless you’re Richard freaking Cavendish, I guess.
And I am most definitelynoton his level.
My priorities have been rider and manager comfort, ease of maintenance, and horse health and longevity.
One of the horse platitudes I do ascribe to is the ‘no feet, no horse,’ saying, so I wanted the footing in the arena to be perfectly balanced, and I wanted to be able to maintain it properly without too much extra work.That meant that we had to add an underlayer of gravel and level it, so things would drain but stay flat, then come back on top with an overlayer of finely ground sediment, and finally come through with a measured top layer of sand mixed with the newest springy fibers.
Then I added a watering system, and I bought the nicest new drag to go behind our old, cranky tractor.I don’t have unlimited funds, after all.
We had plenty of things go wrong.
Contractors brought the wrong sprinklers, and the plumbing lines kept leaking.It was almost impossible to find clean sand like I wanted.Delays are just part of the process, but eventually we got everything sorted, and today I watch with a smile as the sprinklers run for fourteen minutes, leaving the footingjustthe right level of moist, and I drag the arena, and then I ride in it for the very first time since everything was finishedjustso.
Liam’s a bit of a mess for our ride, but the arena’s everything I want.
I text Aodhán, Richard’s Irish trainer, and thank him for all his suggestions.I couldn’t implement every single one due to budgetary restraints, but he helped me find the best price on a few things, and he advised me unemotionally on all of it.Plus, he saved me when we includedtwelve dollarsin the budget instead of twelvethousandfor the lighting.Even twelve grand would have been low, because all the bids I got were closer to fifteen to twenty grand, until Aodhán found me a guy who did it all for nine.
The arena’s finally done, and it’s EPIC.
I include a ‘through the ears’ photo to show him that I’m riding in it now.Liam has such nice, blood-red ears, and he’s come so far that Icanride him and snap a photo.That wouldn’t even have been possible two months ago.For a young thoroughbred, he has a really lovely brain.
Aodhán replies with a baby screaming gif, which is about right.
When I finish my ride, I have another text waiting.
I hear your arena’s done.If the barn’s finished too, you have a debt to repay.I’ll be back in town in two days.
It’s Richard.
Somehow, he knew.I’ve been putting him off like it’s my job for the past month and change, but now that the barn and arena are done, my excuses won’t work anymore.
I know how he knows—it’s obvious.I text Aodhán, my fingers flying furiously over my phone.
You sold me out, you little rat.
I expect him to defend himself, but he just sends another gif.This time, it’s a tiny dancing rat wearing a swim cap and a speedo.Disturbing on multiple levels.
Why am I so nervous?
It could be that Richard’s hot, and I’m excited.I’ve had more strange dreams about my allegedly impending date with Richard than I have been willing to admit.It could be that it would be my very first date with anyone other than my ex-husband in twenty plus years.But most likely… it’s because I lied.
I never should’ve told him I justdon’t like kids.There really isn’t a bigger lie—Ilovekids.
I just can’t have any.
I’m broken.
I mean, in our age bracket, probably most of the women are broken in some way, but my particular brand of broken is the ultimate deal-killer for him, and I know it.He would know it too, if only I had told him the truth when he asked me out.
So I’m putting him off; it’s easier than admitting I lied.
