“Can we start with the apple cake?”
He’s grinning.“Of course.”
His mom may suck, but her apple cake doesn’t, and neither does Jack.Not in the slightest.I had almost forgotten that when you have someone you really love by your side, everything that’s hard gets a little bit better.Eventhinkingthe word love makes me nervous.
But I can’t help it.
I think it might be true.
13
Samantha
The Irish jumping scene and the American ones are very different, and most notably, Ireland doesn’t have many of what we would call entry-level show opportunities in America.
In America, we split the classes in our shows between hunter and jumper.The “hunters” is a little like if dressage and show jumping had a baby.Instead of being a timed event and focusing on the horses riding a clear round, meaning they don’t knock any poles down, there’s a judge who’s evaluating how well the rider uses their aids (hands, feet, etc.) and how well the horse moves, holds itself, and paces the course.That allows a whole host of competition in the small range, with cross rails, with two foot, and with two-and-a-half foot jumps.
In Ireland, I’ve heard several times that, “acowcan jump a meter,” which happens to be three foot three, so why would anyone even compete on a horse at a level below that?It’s a very different mentality than we have in America, where many of the amateurs never jump above three foot three, merrily competing at that height their entire lives.
I think part of the reason may be that there aren’t as many sport horses (often called warmbloods) in America.We have lots of quarter horses and thoroughbreds, which the Europeans consider to be less-talented jumpers.Objectively, if you’re simply grading on who can jump higher, they’re probably correct.Though you will always find exceptions to the rule, your average warmblood will probably almost always outjump your average quarter horse.They’ll often outjump the thoroughbreds, too.
So when I go to look for shows that are close, it’s probably not a surprise that the best option I find is in Waterford—the Ballinamona Equestrian Center has a Winter League that runs every Sunday, and it includes a “Newcomer’s League,” which I love.It’ll be perfect for Natalie’s girls.
Blessedly, all the classes start at 10 am, and they have assigned times, unlike the states, where you have start times for rings, but no idea when anyone’s event will actually begin.
Even so, on the morning of our show, I’m a bit of a basketcase.I didn’t show at all in the months leading up to our move.I couldn’t have even if I wanted to, between losing Varius and divorcing Brent.And now, I haven’t shown in the months we’ve been here either.It leaves me feeling very, very rusty as I load our horses into the trailer that’s towed behind a “lorry” as the Irish call it, or a truck, as we would call it in America.As I load, I realize that I need to work with two of these horses on proper trailering.
Conor’s great, as expected, and his full sister, Dara, is also wonderful.But I have to call Natalie to help me with her little gal, Riona, and Scout’s a disaster.I’m guessing his last few trips were not fun or easy.It takes a crop, some lunging, and a lot of patience to load him, but we do it at last.
“That was fun.”Natalie’s grimace would tell me it was a joke if I didn’t already know.
“Hopefully it’ll be less of an ordeal on the way back,” I say.“Because I’d rather not have our first introduction to the Irish horse scene involve breakdancing across the gravel as we try and load our idiotic five-year old.”I sigh.“Maybe we should wait until everyone else is gone and it’s dark before we come home.”
Natalie’s smirking.“Sure, yeah, that’s a good plan.”She texts her girls to bring the other gear we need while we load up the tack.“But listen, no matter how goofy Scout is at his first show, everyone will immediately see what a talented rider you are.”She shrugs.“I’m sure you already know that, but sometimes it helps to hear it anyway.”
I wish I believed her.I feel like lately my skills have been backsliding.“It’s just a fun little one-day show anyway.”
“And Scout’s no dressage horse.”She’s smirking again.
“No, he certainly isn’t, but I did get him extending the other day, and he was flying over ditches, too.”
“So maybe he’ll make up for a weak dressage performance with top marks on cross-country.”
“Sure,” I say.“Maybe.”While I wait on the girls, I text Richard.
Do you really have to bring your dad?
Because I’m going to do badly, and I don’t want him to think that’s how I ride.
It’s going to be bad enough having Richard watch.
You’re so wrong.You look amazing, and managing a newer greener horse is just more impressive.
It’s just a local show.He’s going to think you’re as amazing as I do.
Richard definitely doesn’t get it.
I brought my baby horse, Scout.It’ll be his first show.I’d really rather not be judged on how he does.
