My Failed Application Year

I've been having trouble the past few days envisioning what my life will be like at WCU-- living in a new place, meeting new people, life as a grad student. I have to keep reminding myself that at this time last year, it was very hard for me to envision myself anywhere but where I was-- stuck in a job that was going nowhere in a situation that was far from ideal. The thought of waiting an additional year to enter grand school, of completing the application process a second time, of wending my way through another anxious few months waiting to hear back from admission committees, was nearly overwhelming.

For a while last summer, I was very unhappy. I kept mulling over the things I'd done throughout life that had led me to that point, and wondering where I went wrong. What could I have done differently in high school, in undergrad, in my gap year, in my personal statement, that could have made my first round of grad school applications successful? What was it about me, as a person or a student or a potential ecologist, that didn't quite make the grade? Why was I being passed up in favor of other candidates? What should I have done differently?

I ended up having lengthy conversations with my undergraduate advisers, as well as much shorter interactions with prospective grad advisers. It was difficult to stop wondering what was "wrong" with me and instead focus on the things which I could actually control. It took me months to realize that, regardless of how prepared one may be for graduate school, and despite having all the necessary credentials for admission, even the most qualified applicants aren't guaranteed acceptance-- anywhere. It was difficult for me to reconcile my previous experiences applying to undergrad, where a handful of applications led to a handful of admittance notifications, with the idea that in applying to graduate school, fit is more important that ability, there are far more applicants than available spots, funding is at a premium, and, more than anything, many candidates go through the application process multiple times before getting accepted.

Ultimately, it was a combination of the internet community and a list of tasks to complete in the immediate future that helped me survive my failed application year. As part of The Grad Cafe's online forums I found that I was definitely not the only person applying to grad school a second (or even third) time round, and found at least a modicum of reassurance in knowing that a failed application year isn't as uncommon as it may initially seem. I also focused on being productive at increasing my odds for success in my second round of applications: I presented some research I'd completed as an undergraduate at a national conference, visited the schools in which I had the highest interest to meet with prospective advisers face-to-face, worked another season in the field, restructured my personal statement, and submitted a manuscript to a scholarly journal for review.

Amongst those activities I did what I could to stay sane. I worked my job on the ranch, took care of my apartment, entertained the rats, spent time with my family, and paid the bills. I tried not to think too much about being back in school, but instead attempted to live more in the moment, taking advantage of and enjoying the opportunities I had. And in that respect, I was largely successful. I had the chance to keep working with all the horses on the ranch, have a horse of my own by leasing Jet, improve my barrel racing, take up calf sorting, and spend time out on the trail. I learned to drive a tractor, improved my skills with the skid loader, and expanded my rodeo and horsemanship knowledge. I also took some time to visit a couple new cities, and took my first vacation in years to visit my best friend for a few days earlier this month.

At this point, it's hard for me to say how my upcoming entrance into graduate school will differ as a result of my additional, unexpected gap year. I will never know what my experiences would have been like had I been admitted during my first application season. What I do know is this: my failed application year was difficult, but not impossible. What initially seemed an insurmountable time period was, of course, just another year. Although I was occasionally unhappy with my situation, I did what I could to make the best of it. And I survived.

I had the opportunity to learn and try and participate in some things that I most likely would not have otherwise. My desire to return to school is even stronger than it was before. My additional time off enabled me to better focus my intentions for research. My improved application resulted in an acceptance to a school that seems like the perfect fit for my research and career goals. And even though applying (and waiting to hear back about applications) a second time was in many ways just as miserable as I imagined it would be, I will be heading to grad school in less than two weeks.

It took me a long time to realize that a failed application year didn't necessarily mean that I'd failed. But I think I finally did. And the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm probably better off for it.

Jet Propulsion

After I started working with Jet and ran him a couple of times, Marlene approached me about leasing him for the summer. We'd been getting along well and I really enjoyed racing him, so I readily agreed, and we set up a full lease for me through August. So Jet is officially my horse for the summer-- everything from his basic care to his exercise and shoeing is my responsibility. It means that Jet is hands off for everyone else without my permission, and that Debbie and Trina cannot pull him out from under me.

Over the past few weeks I've really begun to enjoy having a horse of my own. Last summer, when I worked with Belle, I wasn't technically leasing her. Not only did her ownership remain Debbie's, but so did her care, so although I rode her most days at work and was allowed to take her to barrel races every other week, she was not my horse. Any time Debbie, Trina, or one of their friends wanted/needed to use her, she became off-limits to me, and at the end of the summer, when their young friend Maya came to stay, I wasn't allowed to ride her at all, and had to stop barrel racing long before the summer circuits ended.

Jet, however, is mine and mine alone, and I can do with him what I please. It's been fantastic so far. Every day I work with him I feel a little bit more confident. I've been learning a lot. If I feel like trail riding, we trail ride. If I think he needs arena work, we work in the arena. If I want to run poles, we run poles. The freedom of having a horse to ride the way I want, instead of doing the basic groundwork and patterns I'm required to do at work, has really made riding fun for me again. If I want to go to a local competition, a barrel race or gymkhana or sorting, all I have to do is hop on and ride him down to the local riding club's arena. We've ridden out on the trail alone, joined up with my best barn friend, Joe, for trail rides, and gone barrel racing every week. We're learning to work together seamlessly, and we trust one another more every day.

Leasing Jet has also packed my schedule. With warm weather firmly in place, I work full days now, and ride Jet every day after work. Most days I leave my apartment not long after dawn and don't get back until dark.

Although I love trail riding and want to try my hand at every horse-related activity I come across, my primary motivation in leasing Jet was to be able to barrel race. Up until last week, I'd run Jet a total of three times. During the first and third runs, I knocked over the second barrel. We were coming in nicely and turning well, but he was turning so sharply I was grazing it with my leg coming off it-- simply an issue with timing on my part. But I had a bigger problem. On all three runs my first barrel was terrible, far too wide and incredibly messy. I couldn't quite work out what I was doing wrong. I just wasn't helping him get around it as I should have.

Finally, last week, the day before our fourth race together, I asked Marlene for a lesson. Although Marlene used to help me often, it's been a long time since I'd had an actual lesson with her. We rarely ride together anymore, as we work different schedules, and I've reached the point in my riding abilities where she and Debbie trust me to work horses alone, without constant supervision and/or guidance. I cannot honestly remember the last time she corrected something in my riding. But as I've started doing more, and I'm now working with a more challenging horse (and working with him exclusively, with no weekly tune-up from Marlene) it's important for me to seek out help.

I asked Marlene to test Jet for soreness, as I was having trouble getting him to take the appropriate lead when loping. We worked for almost an hour and a half, and she identified some things in my riding, general sloppiness, mostly, that, in my limited experience, I'd been unable to recognize, which was allowing Jet to take advantage of the situation. It was nothing serious, but it was was letting Jet develop some (minor) bad habits that was affecting the way he rode. Once she taught me to recognize it, though, I was able to work on correcting it, and get him back to the point where I was fully in control.

The next day, before the race, I concentrated on the exercises she taught me and applying the things I'd learned the day before, trying to keep Jet soft and get him to take his leads correctly, and to stay shaped in the appropriate arc while traveling in circles. When our number came up and it was time for us to race, I let him run and further applied what I'd learned the night before. And Jet turned the first barrel perfectly. Just like that, I'd fixed my biggest problem racing him. We took an entire second off our best race time, and won first place in our division.

I felt so incredible after that run. It seems as if I'm finally figuring him out, and things are falling into place. We're finally starting to get into a groove and work as a team. He's learning that I'm the one doing the driving, and I'm learning how to best support him so he can do his job. After the race was over (and I'd collected my winnings), I told Marlene I wanted to continue having lessons every week the day before races, as it obviously helped! I can only hope that our success continues, and that the way he wrapped that first barrel in our most recent race wasn't just a fluke. I want ALL our runs to feel like that. It was really nice.

Summer is starting to go by very quickly. Every day I look at a calendar and realize how few days actually remain before my move to WCU. I'll be leaving a lot behind; not just Jet, but horseback riding in general. I want to do everything I can to get the most out of my experience with Jet this summer, and I plan on taking advantage of every opportunity I can for us to do something fun together. I know that I'm already a better rider for working with him than I was a few weeks ago, not to mention months ago when I first got on him at work. Hopefully we'll keep having fun throughout the next couple months, and continue to advance in our abilities together. If I have to stop riding, I want to be able to do so knowing that I did everything I could to become the best rider I could with the time that I had.

(Edit: We ran again this week, and took another tenth of a second off our time!)

Debut

Despite my misgivings about the sincerity of their offer, Debbie and Trina for once stayed true to their word, and I had my first barrel race with Jet last week. It. Was. AWESOME. It's been such a long time since I've been racing (I think my last race with Belle was at the end of July or early August last year) that I'd almost forgotten how fun it is. And Jet is a blast to ride-- he's much more powerful than Belle, and far faster around the turns.

I was a little nervous about getting him in the gate, as his power tends to get the best of his rider and he occasionally decides it's up to him to do the driving. But Jet and I have been working together long enough now that all he needed was a little reminder from me up front ("Oh. You're still in control. Okay. I'll chill, then.") and he was great. He's a smooth runner, and so, despite my nerves, once we got going I was able to settle in and focus on what I needed to do to keep our turns sharp. With (mostly) good results. I netted my fastest time by far (attributable to his speed rather than anything I did), but I do really need to work on my first barrel and my timing.

Still, improvement comes with practice, and Debbie and Trina have yet (even now) to change their minds, so it looks as if I'll have plenty of time this summer to work on things with him. I know I'll always have to be prepared to lose him unexpectedly, as around here, things change rapidly and with little reason. But I'm slowly becoming more confident that he really will be all mine for the next few months. I already have plans for the coming weekend with him, and a few other jackpot races coming up in the next couple weeks. I'm also starting to envision other fun things for us to do-- trail rides, sorting practices, and maybe some light cattle work now and then.

I've been so happy the past few days, thinking about our first race together, how awesome it felt to be on a much higher-caliber barrel horse than those I've ridden before, and looking forward to racing on a regular basis again. This may very well be my last opportunity for a long while to horseback ride with any regularity, so I plan on making the most of it.

Summer, here I come! And Jet? He's coming with me.

Jet Set

In another strange, yet not entirely unexpected, change of circumstances on the ranch (which occur here rather more often than should be realistic), the proprietors of the business have decided that, since I'm off to graduate school in just four months, I really should have the opportunity to barrel race this summer, if I so choose.

Oh, I most definitely choose.

Just as quickly as Debbie and Marlene decided I could not use Louis (at Trina's whim, of course), they altered their intentions for their other available horses, creating new opportunities for me. Alright, that may not be entirely true. In all actuality, the lease on Jet fell through, and Trina is no longer interested in using Morgan, since she has Durango now, and recently purchased Bud, a futurity horse, with which to work. That leaves two well-bred, competitive western speed horses on the ranch being maintained for performance without actually being used to perform.

The upshot of all that is, this morning Marlene called me into the office and offered me use of both Morgan and Jet for the summer. I credit myself with a great deal of self control for not having laughed aloud at her proposal. Just a few days ago, I had been assured that there was no chance of me using even one of their good performance horses this summer. Now they're offering two?

It seems this time, however, I have reason to be cautiously optimistic. The benefit of them offering me the use of two horses (as opposed to one) is that, should Trina pitch a fit and decide she wants to claim one of them, again, as hers and hers alone, that should still leave one horse remaining for me to use. And I happen to like both horses a great deal, and have no overwhelming preference for one over the other.

I told them I'd start off with Jet. Although he's harder to control than Morgan and requires more finesse in handling, I've been working with him longer and have a better feel for him. Marlene did tell me, however, that even if I do decided to use Jet, there should be no reason why I couldn't race him one week and take Morgan the next, or take Jet to a race and Morgan to a gymkhana, or vice versa.

Jet is also a (somewhat) more secure choice. Although Trina still has lingering interest in riding Jet, the likelihood of him becoming suddenly 'off-limits' to me is smaller than with Morgan. First, they're in the process of attempting to breed Morgan. Assuming the pregnancy takes, although she'll still be able to run for many months, I imagine they'll want to be careful with her, and not push her too hard. Debbie, in particular, will likely become neurotic about her health and physical capabilities.

Second, they will never sell Jet. Marlene is too taken with him-- if they ever decide they don't want him on the ranch, Marlene will make sure she can purchase him. Morgan, on the other hand, will likely be sold at some point. If she does become pregnant they might choose to keep her for a brood mare. Otherwise, she is too solid a horse to be left around jobless. If they can't get her pregnant they'll move her on to another home. It may take months (or even years) for that to happen, but not necessarily. Should the right buyer come along, and the opportunity arises for her to go to a good family that will care for her properly, they would most certainly sell her-- even if it meant breaking a lease with me in the middle of the summer.

So Jet it is, tentatively, although I imagine I'll ask to try them both out at first. Perhaps I'll even trade back and forth for a time, because I really do like the two of them equally. If neither is being used, they should have no qualms with me working them both over the summer. Twice the number of horses should equal twice the opportunity for fun, right?

It is important to note that this could, of course, change immediately in the course of the next week or month (or day). If I've gained anything from this job, it has come in the form of a great deal of flexibility and nearly limitless patience. Which does, occasionally, pay off. I'll have a horse for the summer after all!

Horseless

This is my first attempt at reverting to posting on a regular basis. See? It's possible! Although I suppose I should give it a few weeks before I start feeling accomplished.

I realized that it's been a while since I've mentioned life on the ranch. Technically, I was supposed to have become Trina's full-time tutor at the beginning of the year, transitioning away from my position as a ranch hand to help her with her first semester of college.

Which I did. For a couple of weeks, I no longer worked in the barn at all, and instead helped Trina with her assignments, studying, and test preparations. Until she dropped all her classes and decided she didn't want to be in school.

Yeah. There's a long, ridiculous story there. But suffice to say that it ends with her being more or less aimless in life, and me going back to barn work until grad school.

I can't say I'm displeased. As rewarding as tutoring can be, and as much as I enjoy teaching, Trina is one of the least motivated students I've ever met, to the point of being obstinate. Debbie doesn't help matters, caving to the idea that Trina "just isn't smart enough" and that she needs her hand held in order to accomplish the simplest of tasks. Trina is smart enough to play her, again and again. She doesn't lack the intelligence to succeed, but the work ethic. Nothing I can do will change that.

The novelty of working on a ranch is starting to wear off, in part, I believe, because I'm no longer getting to 'play.' At the end of last summer, they decided to lease Belle, the mare I was using to race, to another family. Belle is in a great place, and is doing really well, but as a result I haven't been able to compete since August. When Belle left, there wasn't a really good 'replacement' for me to work with.

My riding abilities have improved since that time, to the point where a few of their other horses would now be suitable for me to use in barrel races. But of course, as with everything else here, there always ends up being some issue somewhere that prevents any semblance of ease.

First, it was suggested that I lease one of Marlene's horses. I thought this sounded like a solid idea. The problem was that two of her 'available' horses aren't broke, and the other two are trained for rough stock, and not speed-- instead of barrel racing and pole bending, they're ropers, cutters, and sorters.

Then, they decided I could use Jet. I was thrilled with this idea, as I love Jet's personality, and he can be pretty competitive. Just days after the suggestion, they had an offer to lease Jet during junior's rodeos, and Marlene decided she didn't want Jet run more than a couple times a month.

After Jet was out of the equation, I suggested Louis. Louis is a step up from Belle, and wasn't being used. Trina "hates" him. Their personalities clash, and they fight each other constantly. The intention was for Trina to stop using Louis entirely, continue to use her newest horse, Durango, in barrels, and purchase another horse to use as back-up.

Surprise, surprise, though, as soon as I started using Louis, the minute we started clicking as a team, Trina suddenly changed her mind about him, and decided she wanted him as her back-up. *sigh* That's the biggest problem with using any of Trina's horses. At any time, on her whim, the horse could be pulled out from under me.

Now we're nearing summer, and racing series are starting to pop up again. The days are lengthening, the weather improving, and it won't be too much longer before evening barrel races become weekly events. With only four months remaining before I quit the ranch and move, I want to take advantage of the time I have left here and the opportunities I have to ride.

I'd like to get something set up as soon as possible, but right now I'm at a loss at which angle to pursue. Trina's horses, in one way or another, are all more or less off-limits. Marlene's horses may not be suitable without extensive training-- and I'm certainly not well-versed enough in Horse to do the training myself. As for leasing outside of the ranch, I'm not sure I could afford it. I could lease a horse here at cost, just what it requires to pay for hay and sweet feed. Elsewhere I'd likely pay fees on top of that, and horses aren't cheap to lease. I'm trying to save money right now, and I just can't justify losing a couple hundred dollars a month (or more) just to barrel race.

Hopefully I'll be able to work something out. I really miss Belle. I outgrew her, to some extent, but I miss working with the same horse every day, and really developing that relationship. Very few days go by when I don't ride, but riding as a job and riding for fun are two very different beasts.

Jax Z. Wolf: Professional Barrel Racer

Okay, okay, okay... so I'm not really a professional, and I probably won't ever be. But MONEY-WINNING competitive barrel racer just doesn't have the same ring.

That's right! Last night, at a jackpot barrel race Belle and I went to, we placed high enough to win money! I had a decent (though far from perfect) run, and brought home a nifty little check. It was a lot of fun, and even if I never race again after this point in my life, I'll still be able to look back and say I used to win money "chasing cans." In my opinion, that's pretty cool.

Belle and I are still getting along, but my perception of her has slowly been changing, as a result of my ever-improving riding abilities. A month ago I would have given anything to be able to buy Belle off of Debbie and Trina. Now I'm starting to realize that it won't be too much longer before I "outgrow" her. In other words, my riding skills and drive will surpass her abilities. During my barrel runs, I'm already finding I'm wanting to go faster and harder than she can run, and some of the habits that make her a great horse for beginners are starting to frustrate me.

There are several better, faster horses on the ranch that I could potentially step-up to, but I'm not sure if Debbie (or, more likely, Trina) would allow me to use them. Perhaps in August, when their young friend Maya comes for the month and has to use Belle, they'll let me start running one of the better horses.

Until then, I suppose I'll just have to be content to rest on my laurels as an earning barrel racer. :)

The Unrelenting Quest

As you might have guessed, I decided not to take the unpaid internship I interviewed for a few weeks ago. After a lot of thought (although not nearly as much as I'd originally anticipated) it was clear that I just couldn't afford to be spending money instead of making it. An incredible experience? Probably. Worth the financial hardship? Unlikely. So for me, it's back to the job boards, to troll for just about anything that will a.) get me some good field experience, b.) increase my potential for graduate school, c.) pay money, and d.) hold my interest for more than three seconds. Or, you know, ideally, several months.

But it's getting harder. Now that we're well into summer in the northern hemisphere, most field projects are already underway, with field technicians having already been hired for the duration of studies. There are a few short-term projects (four to six weeks) looking for help, but for me, right now, it's not worth the effort moving somewhere to find myself jobless again in a month. Every week, one or two jobs looking to hire for the fall or winter pop up, but these are few and far between. I've gone from two or three job applications a day to, at most, one or two every week.

To be perfectly honest, apart from the fact that my current job has little to no relevance to my intended course of study (it'd be a bit of a stretch to link ranch labor to ecology), I'm happy where I'm at right now. I like working with the horses every day. I enjoy making little goals for myself, and seeing my riding and training abilities improve. I like playing, too-- taking Belle to barrel races and gymkhanas, or going out on day-long trail rides. It's not something I think I'd want to do forever (perhaps as a hobby, but not a job), but for right now, I'm not going to be fussed if I have to keep doing it for a while. 

Really the only thing that concerns me is the upcoming application season. Will potential graduate advisers frown on the dearth of fieldwork showing up on my CV over the past few months? Will a presentation at a national meeting and (hopefully) a publication in the works be enough to convince them that I'm serious about a PhD program, or do I really need another stint in the field to help secure the deal?

Sometimes, when I'm scrubbing the toilet in the barn or scraping horse poop off the floor, I think to myself, Gee... this is what my bachelor's degree is worth. But other times, going that bit farther into the realm of grad school seems like a monumental effort. Contact advisers, get good GRE scores, start making a name for yourself, apply to school, get rejected, ask questions, re-write application essays, present at a national meeting, try to get a publication, contact professors again, visit schools, apply again, and on, and on, and on.

I really do want to get my PhD. The sciences, and the types of projects I might work on for my dissertation, really excite me. I enjoy fieldwork, and I miss going to school. I want to work in conservation, and try to do what I can to help protect the few remaining vestiges of wilderness and wildlife the planet still has. But sometimes, thinking about applying to grad school again in the fall, and (assuming I'm accepted this time round) the five to seven years of hard work that will follow, really just makes me want to chuck the whole idea and go in for something simpler. Take out a loan, buy a little land, a horse, and a couple hundred goats, and start my own invasive weed removal business. Herd my goats out to other peoples' properties as an eco-friendly way to get rid of noxious and nonnative plant species. Maybe train and sell herding dogs as a sideline business. Simple, effective, profitable, and enjoyable, right?

Not a PhD, no grandiose visions of making a difference, of helping save the world, but some days it almost seems like it'd be worth the trade-off.

My Kingdom for a Horse

The other day, while on a trail ride, Marlene and I began talking about my partnership with Belle, and we figured out that I need around $110,000 in order to afford to buy Belle from Debbie and be able to care for her properly for the rest of her life. I know what you're thinking-- that's the most outrageous sum you've ever seen.

Granted, the sum itself is far from a conservative estimate. The actual year-to-year cost of her ownership would likely run somewhere between $4,000 and $7,000, which includes funding for board, hay, grain, injections, supplements, regular shoeing, dentistry, tack, and incidental expenditures. The final number, the absolutely shocking figure passing the 100K mark, includes a sizable buffer for medical emergencies, and it also assumes that Belle, a 15 hand, 16 year-old quarter horse, will live for another fifteen years.

Take it month-to-month, or even year-to-year, and it seems more feasible. Roughly $400/month. The average person might be able to cut their cable budget and kick the Starbucks habit and be more than halfway there. Me? Might be a little more difficult. Right now I could probably afford it. But hypothetically, someday soon, I'll be living off a grad student's stipend, and that might be quite a bit more difficult.

Marlene told me today that Maya, an eleven-year-old family friend of Debbie and Trina's, will be coming for a month-long visit this August. She usually comes three or four times a year for a few weeks at a time, and does a lot of riding. She usually rides Cash, but for some reason, the last time she was here, over spring break, she and Cash had a falling out, and Anya complained to Debbie that Cash just wasn't working well for her. Now Debbie is convinced that Belle can be calmed down to the point where she'll be safe for Maya to ride. Unless Marlene and I can convince Trina to let Maya use her horse, Turbo, for eventing while she's here, then I'll have to stop running Belle in early July, and I might not get to ride her at all in August.

Off to the Races

The past couple weeks, my life at work has improved considerably. Trina, having finally finished with school for the year, no longer needs tutoring, and both she and Debbie have mellowed... somewhat. My barn to house work-time ratio has shifted from 40/60 or 50/50 to 90/10, and I'm all about barn time being favored. Temperatures here have begun soaring by early afternoon, so my schedule has shifted, too, and I'm working mornings now, coming in early to ride before it gets too hot. There's a lot more going on here in the mornings, so I don't sit around without something to do as often anymore. Overall, it seems as if time at work goes by faster. It's been great.

More time in the barn also means more time spent with Belle. Over the past couple months, my relationship with Belle has blossomed. Trina had been running poles on Belle competitively through November, but became frustrated with her and quit riding her when she couldn't run a clean pattern faster than 22 or 23 seconds. Belle is a fast horse, and she can run a fast, clean pattern, but it takes some work on the part of the rider to give her the appropriate cues, and for all her experience, giving horses appropriate cues just isn't something Trina can do. She'd rather change the horse than the way she rides. And, lo and behold, that's exactly what happened. Trina stopped riding Belle and began working with Greco, whom they later sold in exchange for Louis, the horse she's using in poles now.

So Belle, like many of Trina's horses, was shuffled off to the sidelines, to be ridden whenever possible after the in-use performance horses got a workout. I got on Belle for the first time in late December. At that time she was still running hot, partly because of Trina's inconsistencies in her riding style, and partly because every time Trina got on her, she'd been pushing Belle to go as fast as she could, all the time, with the aid of spurs and a short whip called an over and under.

The first time I worked with her, I'd only been riding for about two months, and both my butt and my psyche were still recovering from the incident with Halle. I wasn't ready to trust a horse again, especially a mare, and particularly not one as wild to "go" as Belle. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure Belle was ready to trust another rider either, after months of mixed signals from Trina and being pushed to her limit without reprieve.

I kept riding her, though, out of necessity, a few times a week, although I limited myself to mostly long-trotting and slow loping circles mixed in with a little ground work. No running, no patterns, no tight turns.

In the interim, I was being invited to a host of gymkhanas and other western speed events, and making up a host of excuses as to why I couldn't attend. In truth, my confidence was shot. My first gymkhana didn't end with a feeling of fulfillment or success. When Cash and I competed, I'd only been riding for five days, my seat was far from secure, his gate issues frightened me, and I finished in the middle of a pack of mediocre novice riders. It wasn't much fun, and I decided I much preferred the mellow "training style" arena rides to the stress of even meant-for-fun competitions. This idea was solidified a few weeks later with the reality check I got working Halle in barrels.

But then, a couple of months ago, I began to have a change of heart. I started to realize several things. First, always doing slow training-based rides in the arena gets a little old. Second, competing looks like a lot of fun. Go to a western speed event and watch the people there, and they all look like they're enjoying themselves. It's hard to watch others running patterns and not want to join in. Third, I've been riding every weekday now for almost seven months, and I'm no longer a novice rider. And fourth, and perhaps most important, I began reminding myself that Belle is not Halle, and reminding Belle that I am not Trina.

And then, gradually, something began to shift with us. Maybe it was my growing confidence in my ability as a rider. Maybe it was Belle's months-long break from the pressures of constant competition and Trina's riding style. Maybe it was the growing consistency in both our lives, as I began riding her every day. Perhaps is was some combination of all three, but one day as I saddled Belle she looked me in the eye and I thought, seemingly out of nowhere, I love this horse.

I began to trust her. Slowly at first, but then more and more every day. I tested our bond in the arena and on the trail, doing a little jumping, asking her to stop on a dime from a fast lope, crossing water out on the trail, having her switch leads on my command. Eventually, I started working patterns on her, and found that she was much calmer and far more responsive to me than she had been in December. I started favoring her, and when Marlene and I went through our daily,

Me: "Who do you want me to ride?"

Marlene: "Who do you want to ride?"

conversation, instead of shrugging and saying, "whoever," I started volunteering, "Belle" every time, to the point where Marlene stopped asking and simply said, "Go ahead and ride Belle,  then you can work _________ and __________."

Early last week, after Trina finished school, Marlene decided to take a day trip to a nearby arena for concentrated pattern work. Although we have a sizable outdoor arena, we rarely work with a set of horses for an extended period of time on one thing at home. Visiting a different arena allowed us to do so without burning the horses out-- being away from home immediately put them in the mindset that we were there to work.

We set up barrels and did a bunch of slow exercises and groundwork, me on Belle, Marlene on Jet, Anya, another barn employee, on her horse Goliath, and Trina on Louis and Morgan. Then we each began making slow runs, with Marlene watching closely to offer corrections when necessary. I started taking Belle to the left-hand barrel first, and when Marlene asked me why, I explained to her that Belle was having trouble making the appropriate lead changes starting to the right.

"You know," she said, "It's much easier for her to change leads when she's running the pattern."

"Running?"

"Yeah. The faster she's going, the easier it is for her. She knows what to do, it's just hard for her to make the switch unless she's going at a good speed. If you let her run, she'll do a lot better."

I stared at Marlene for a while, then examined the ground, unsure of what to do. I knew she was encouraging me to run-- to actually race the pattern-- instead of using the slow lope I'd always taken before. My trust in Belle had grown tremendously... I knew she wouldn't let me down. Belle is the kind of horse that looks out for number one, and as long as you can stay on her back, you're not going to get hurt.

I was chewing on my lip when Anya said, "You need to trust her."

To which Marlene remarked, "No... I know you trust her. You just need to trust yourself."

So I did. I took a deep breath, lined Belle up, and gave her some rein, and ran barrels for the first time. And I mean flat-out ran.

It was basically one of the coolest things I've ever done. I literally couldn't stop grinning. I ran her another three times after that, and I was buzzing with excitement for the rest of the day. Not to mention the fact that I was pretty proud of myself.

The next day I overhead Marlene and Trina discussing an upcoming barrel race, and stepped in to listen to their conversation.

"It's this Friday, right?" said Trina.

"Yeah, Friday evening," replied Marlene.

"Are you going to go?" asked Trina.

"I don't know. I suppose we could, if you guys wanted to. Jax, would you be interested?" she inquired, turning to face me.

I thought about it for a minute, and surprised myself when I found that I no longer wanted to make any excuses. The thought of going to a competition, for the first time in months, didn't make me nervous. It sounded exciting.

So Friday evening after work we loaded up the trailer with the horses and went to the barrel race.

And Belle and I ran.

And it was the most fun I've had in a long, long time.

And I can't wait to do it again.

Whoa, ponies!

This evening at work while I was helping feed the horses on the ranch, I started thinking about how ridiculous the size of their herd is relative to the amount of time Trina spends with them. In the past seven days, Trina has made excuses on five of them about why she can't or won't ride. These excuses are pathetic, and Marlene and I have been discussing how long it will be before Trina stops riding altogether. If that really does happen, what are they going to do with all these horses?

Just to give you an idea of the sheer number of horses on the ranch, I thought I'd list them all here. Keep in mind that, save for two horses owned by Marlene and two boarded by one of Trina's friends, every single one of these horses is Trina's. That's right-- every single horse technically "belongs" to her.

Turbo- Trina's favorite. If she rides just one horse, it'll be him. She uses him for the obstacle course, and sometimes in poles.
Louis- A gelding purchased late this winter to be used in poles. This has become Trina's second-favorite horse.
Jet- An aging barrel horse. One of Trina's favorites, but she doesn't ride him much since they got Louis and Morgan.
Morgan- A barrel horse. Very fast, and a little unpredictable. Trina never rides her unless she's competing.
Gage- A roping horse. Trina doesn't rope very often. She'll go through phases. She didn't ride him at all for five months over the winter, but has been riding him once a week or so lately.
Belle- Belle used to be Trina's pole horse, but they decided they didn't like her when Trina kept knocking poles over, and ended up with Louis. Guess what? She still knocks over poles. Belle is my personal favorite, and for all intents and purposes is "my" horse. I'm the only one that rides her now, and everyone on the ranch refers to her as mine. If I had the money to keep a horse, I'd buy her off of them in an instant.
Beauty- They bought Beauty for Trina to "train." Er... Yeah. Right. Marlene trained her. Trina has ridden her, to my knowledge, one time in the last eight months.
Moxy- They bought Moxy for Trina to "train," too. Same story as above. Marlene trained her to run the obstacle course, and now they're doing a partial lease to another girl who is using her in rodeos.
Cash- They bought Cash to be Trina's barrel horse. I have no idea how long she actually used him before they got a different horse for her. Cash has a good personality, though, so they've kept him around.
Starsky- A retired horse that used to do the obstacle course and flags. Not sure why they bought him. I think Trina has ridden him twice since I've worked on the ranch, for about fifteen minutes each time.
King- They bought King for Trina to show. I don't think she's shown a horse in years.
Queen- They bought Queen so King wouldn't be lonely, and so Trina would have another show horse. I can't remember the last time she even brushed either one.
Prince and Princess- Two horses that belong to one of Trina's friends.
Texas- Tex was supposed to be Trina's pole horse. She didn't like him. They sold him to Marlene, and he still lives on the ranch.
Puma- The other horse that lives on the ranch that belongs to Marlene.

This list doesn't include the horses they've sold or bought and sold in the past seven months-- Halle, Greco, Disco, and Fox, or the two horses they own that don't live on their property-- Jeeves and Sully.

Don't get me wrong- I understand completely why Trina doesn't ride every horse she owns. It would be completely overwhelming. And the fact that she rides only one or two of them regularly means I have a job, which, although not ideal, is better than a lot of people have right now. But honestly, what's the point in having them if she's not going to use them? That's anywhere from twelve to sixteen horses that need to be groomed and ridden on a regular basis, and fed daily. It's a huge responsibility, and one that requires two to four full-time employees working every day of the week. All for a single, seventeen year-old girl.

Spring Cleaning

With the weather marginally improving over the last few weeks (I say marginally because the wind has been ridiculous, and its supposed to snow later on this week) we've been taking advantage of the warm afternoon sun to do a little horse-washing at the ranch. After an entire winter spent rolling around in the dirt, mud, and snow, crushing debris into their long coats, they've all finally started to shed out... and they're filthy underneath all that hair.

Take one horse, add warm water and shampoo, soak, lather, rinse. Repeat. Sixteen times. Yes, each one of the sixteen horses and ponies on the ranch needs a bath, so we've been steadily working our way through the lot of them, dirtiest to least dirty, performance horses to ponies.

The shampoo we have reads, "For use on carpets, upholstery, industrial fabrics, and livestock."

Yeah. I thought it was a little weird, too.

Things haven't improved a great deal with the tutoring/barn work balance, but I have been able to ride almost every day, which has been good. Trina has her finals at the end of next week, which means the next two weeks will be tutoring-heavy for me, but afterward I should be spending the majority of my time with the horses.

As for finding a field job for the summer, things aren't looking great. I've received quite a few "We regret" style emails, including one today for a really neat job for which I was well-qualified and thought I had a really good shot at.

And today I received official notification from U of Northern State that I was not selected as a candidate for admission. :( That leaves one school... U of New England Place, which I emailed again this afternoon to see if I can get a straight(er) answer than, "We'll look into and get back to you" (i.e. "We'll delete your email and never respond to your inquiry.")

Hey, good things! Over here! Please feel free to start happening at any time. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.

Cowgirl Down

Work with any kind of animal for any period of time and you're more than likely to meet up with adversity. Animals, after all, are animals. They have mood swings much like humans. But many, lacking the ability to communicate vocally with humans, give clues too subtle to alert their handlers/owners that it's not a good time to mess about. And even the smallest of misread signals, coupled with a temperamental, impatient animal, can have unfortunate results. Animals kick, scratch, bite, trample, gore, and maul (sorry mom... sic vita est). And did I mention buck?

There's a saying among horseback riders that goes "the hardest part about riding is the ground." The owner of this ranch, along with the horse trainer, have made a concerted effort over the years to cull their stock such that all of their horses are "safe." When the odd horse has come round that has had issues too serious to fix or too unpredictable to prevent, they've sold it right away. Save Halle.

Over the past four or five weeks Halle has become my project, my pet, my friend, and my all-around favorite mount. A gorgeous, 6-year-old chestnut mare, she could be described as broke, but green. Having only been ridden now for two years, Halle still has a lot to learn. But where she lacks the experience and even temperament of an older horse, she makes up for it with her sweet nature and loads of potential. Halle was acquired on trade. Shawnee, a big "starter" barrel horse that Trina (the main benefactor of the ranch) had outgrown, was sold to another family in exchange for thousands of dollars-- and Halle.

At first, Halle was fine. She worked well with Trina, and Marlene (the horse trainer) could see she oozed untapped promise. Then, just over a year ago, Halle cut herself badly while turned out to pasture. The injury took months to heal... months where Halle was unable to work. When she was finally sound enough to ride again, everything had changed. Where once there was a happy, energetic young horse working well under command, there now was a stubborn, pig-headed mare who'd buck, rear, and crow hop when asked to do something she didn't feel like doing.

Marlene rode with her for weeks, getting her to the point where, although she occasionally complained about doing her work, she'd no longer pitch a fit. They chose not to keep her, deciding that the older, more stable horses were better for Trina. She was listed for sale and exercised less frequently, with a once- or twice-weekly tune-up from Marlene. And then I came along.

I needed a horse to work with, to really teach and learn from. I wasn't challenged by their older horses, and I'm not quite good enough to work their hot-to-trot high-performance horses. I'm more than capable of exercising their high-performance horses, but can't work on patterns, such as barrels or poles. So Marlene suggested I start working with Halle. Halle needed the attention, and I needed a more challenging horse. It was a perfect match.

We bonded quickly once I began riding her every day. She'd come when I called, nuzzle my back as I picked her hooves clean, and wait patiently in the arena for me while I worked other horses. When her turn came she was responsive to my cues, and we started working barrels and poles and doing sprints along the fence line. She'd bend to my legs, turn with the slightest pull of the rein, trot or canter off at the exact speed I'd specify. In short, she was a dream. Marlene, Debbie (the ranch owner), Trina, Max (the ranch hand), and Britt (who boards her horse at the ranch) all noticed how great Halle and I were getting along, said she'd been making huge improvements since I'd started riding her, that we were looking great. There were talks of my taking her to barrel races on Tuesday evenings, of keeping her around for a while longer to see if she'd continue to progress.

One afternoon, Halle and I began loping barrel patterns, and her turns were looking good. Another day, we loped two flawless pole patterns back-to-back, and I was on cloud nine. She was really shaping up. I felt great riding her. We just seemed to fit one another.

But then, there were little things that troubled me on occasion. She'd spook sometimes at silly things: the pig, the silhouette of a car through the trees, the goats butting heads... an inexcusable behavior for having been constantly exposed to each of these things for over a year. There were other things, too... She'd pull her turns wide when cantering around the arena, flick her tail when I asked her to lope off, pin her ears and duck her head when riding alongside another horse. I did my best to correct each of these things, and took to wearing spurs and carrying a short crop on her bad days.

Then came the cold snap. Two weeks ago, Nearby Town experienced some of the most brutally cold weather in years. Temperatures were consistently below zero, with wind chills dipping to twenty-five below or more. Coupled with a few days of continuous, light snow, the weather made riding of any kind impossible for around six days. It wasn't until the sun showed face and the arena could be properly cleared of ice that we could get out again.

When I started back on Halle she seemed fine-- at first. She wasn't nearly as responsive as she had been the previous week, and the little, pig-headed behaviors started showing themselves more frequently. The crop and spurs found a permanent place in my arsenal. And for a few days, she was fine. She'd work for me much as she had before, if not instantaneously then very quickly following some gentle encouragement from my spurred heels.

Three days ago, Halle spooked badly in the arena, attributed to long shadows, wind, and Bob (Marlene's husband) roping calves close behind us. I rested easily on her, let her get her head back together, then trotted her out for around twenty minutes, and she was fine. Marlene was pleased. It seemed that Halle was finally past that troublesome stage from a year before.

Two days ago, I got on Halle just as I had for weeks. I'd already worked Cash and Target; Marlene, Romeo and Cryssie. Marlene mounted Peach and I hopped on Halle, and we each went through our separate patterns. Halle responded well. She pushed away from my leg, turned the corners appropriately, and did some excellent pole patterns with me. She wasn't spooky, as she'd been the day before. Marlene and I stopped and chatted, and then I decided that I would do just one more barrel pattern and one more pole pattern before calling it an afternoon and going up to the barn to feed.

Halle hadn't been worked hard. I hadn't pushed her, she wasn't tired or sore or sweating heavily or out of breath. We made a great turn around the first barrel and I pushed her on to the second. She lagged slightly, and I gave her a little kick to give her some extra speed. She crow-hopped slightly, but Marlene and I both assumed she was energetic and excited. We turned the second barrel nicely, and the third. But as Halle came round the final barrel she slowed again. I pushed forward in the saddle and gave her another kick to urge her on. I wasn't asking for rocket speed. I just wanted her to lope.

And evidently, that was all it took to piss Halle off. Instead of stretching out and giving some extra push to the finish line, Halle ducked her head low and threw her back feet up. Once, twice, three times. I thought I had her beat. Marlene thought I had her beat. She hesitated, just a microsecond, then gave another buck-- with a twist. I lost my stirrups. I had one hand firmly gripped around the pommel of the saddle, the other grasping frantically for the reins. In the end, it was the reins that did me in. I'd given Halle some rein when I'd asked her to speed up, and as a result I didn't have near enough to pull her head up and direct her back feet down.

Without control of Halle's head there was nothing to stop the little twist in that final buck from unseating me entirely, and the ground and I met up, if not unexpectedly, then much more quickly than I would have liked. The impact of every ounce of my body weight plus gravity was absorbed by an area of my pelvis roughly the diameter of an orange. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever experienced something quite as painful. Although I wanted nothing more than to lay on the dirt and moan, I stood up as quickly as I could, simply because I had to relieve the pressure off of my pelvis.

Halle had taken off, and Marlene had taken off after her. The best course of action in these situations is to get right back on the horse, to teach them that bucking someone off doesn't accomplish anything, but I couldn't have if I'd tried. Instead, Marlene did. She busted Halle's chops, literally, then nearly ran her into the ground on a short rein and with her considerably sharper spurs. Halle was the last to be unsaddled that night. She went without gain, and didn't get turned out to pasture the day after. The following day, she was the first to be saddled and the last to be un-saddled. Marlene put her though her paces, and then I did, too.

I'm not one to psych myself out about things. I wasn't nervous getting back on Halle. I didn't expect her to buck again. I gave her every opportunity to be the sweet, responsive mare she'd been before. And she was. She was fine. We did some pole patterns, loped around the arena, and I felt just as good on her as I always did, always do.

That's not to say, of course, that the whole incident occurred without repercussions. I will say that Halle remains my favorite horse here. Given a choice of horses to ride, I'd still pick Halle every time. But, at least for now, and maybe forever, I no longer trust her like I did. I can no longer ride her "casually." Every time I get on I'll have to be focused on every thing she does. And for the next few weeks, Marlene will either have to start her before I ride or tune her up several times a week. Halle will have to be ridden with a tight bit, short reins, and a tie-down. And regardless of how much I like her, I can have no mercy when it comes to her slip-ups. So I've lost something there.

Then there's the physical side to being bucked off a horse. The orange-sized area that took the impact of the fall was on my iliac crest along the sacroiliac joint. Although not directly weight-bearing, the area has become increasingly more uncomfortable over the past 48 hours. It doesn't affect my hip, nor does it rub in the saddle, but putting any pressure on the area or working any of the muscles connected to that part of my pelvis is far from pleasurable. I wouldn't be surprised if something in there had a hairline fracture or, if nothing else, a decent bruise.

And of course, there are psychological effects. The biggest damage done was to my confidence and sense of self-worth. I keep thinking there might have been something I could have done differently, either to have prevented the situation entirely or to have stopped Halle from bucking before I lost my seat. I wonder what Marlene thought of the whole situation, and I worry that maybe I'm just not good enough to realize when Halle is doing something wrong, or that maybe Marlene is starting to regret letting me work with Halle at all. Being in pain is no fun, either, and although I'd much prefer the respect of the barn crew to their pity, it seems more or less like nothing ever happened. Even Bob, one of the most sensitive guys I've ever met, said only, "I heard you joined the lawn-dart club."

So tonight, alone in the house, second-guessing myself, feeling bad about no one feeling bad for me, bemoaning my situation, and finding it nearly impossible to relax or take the pressure off my right side, I threw myself a pity party and then decided to update the blog. It's been a while. I'd been starting to worry that my life isn't nearly "wild" enough to merit the title. But I guess getting bucked off a horse counts for something, eh?

I'm a Mac

I know, I know... It's been weeks since my last post. I will concede that I am less inclined to do weekly blog postings now that I'm no longer working regularly in the field. My "interesting" experiences are fewer and farther between, and I get just as tired writing about grad school applications as I'm sure you all get reading about them. But I have more excuses this time round, and it all starts with a virus.

A couple weeks ago I was surfing the internet looking for replacement wheels for a dishwasher rack (don't ask) when my trusty, five-year-old Dell laptop sunk into protected mode and sent up notification of a viral infection, a dastardly rogue anti-spyware program that took control of my internet explorer, prevented access to task manager and my registry editor, and made a host of pop-up adds explode on screen. I went through the basics of removal, but to no avail. Not even my previously undefeated Symantec antivirus software could catch the culprit.

I spent three solid days doing everything I could think of to remove the malicious software, finally succeeding in regaining control of my internet and registry editor, so that I could at least use it to submit applications. But all the while the processing speed became slower, to the point where even opening up MS Word was taking nearly half an hour. That's when I saw the advertisement for Apple's Black Friday sale online.

I'd been planning on buying a new laptop before graduate school, sometime in the late spring or early summer, if I were to get accepted someplace. I knew I'd need a faster computer with a larger hard drive to handle the punishment of five or more years-worth of intense studying, report-writing, fact-checking, and online journal-researching. My long-in-the-tooth Dell may be able to keep up for a while, but the threat of it giving out at an inopportune moment and having to rush to try and save things/get a new computer set up all while keeping up with my studies was not a scenario I ever wanted to face. So a new laptop pre-grad school was already in the plan.

Of course, as is typical of my brain, I started thinking... If I was planning on getting a new one anyway, and there is a sale on Macs on Black Friday, and my Dell is struggling just to start, and I still haven't been able to get rid of the nasty virus, then why not now?

Well, the obvious answers to those questions would be a.) because you don't have a job and because it's almost Christmas and because it would be a huge expense, and b.) why wait? Of course, I chose answer b. The Dell had been good to me, but I wanted something with faster processing, better graphics, a larger hard drive, and better customer support. I didn't want to have to deal with antivirus software and system checks and, heaven forbid, another rogue anti-spyware program. Plus, Macs are sooooooooo cool! So I bought one.

So much for upgrading my DSLR. :(

And that, more than anything, is the biggest reason I haven't posted an entry here in several weeks. My Dell crashed and was more or less unusable, then I had to wait for my new Mac to be delivered, and then I had to port everything over and get accustomed to using it.

By the way, the Mac is awesome. I've been running it on battery power for the last three hours, listening to music, watching videos online, and writing up documents, and the gauge says there's still five hours left on the charge. It's fast, it's sleek, it's shiny, and it's incredibly intuitive. The controls take a while to get used to... some of the quick keys are different than on a PC, and the command button is used as opposed to the control button to do things like cut, copy, paste, etc. So it's taken me a few days to find the appropriate keys. But the touch pad is awesome. It recognizes how many fingers you're using and thus allows you to scroll, go back and forth between pages, rotate pictures, and open applications instantly. Very cool. And I've found Firefox to be head and shoulders above internet explorer.

So if you're thinking about getting a new computer, I highly recommend you go for a Mac.

Anyway.... It's been snowing here for the past few days. Not heavily, but enough to make the streets slick. It's been cold, too... down below zero at night with terrible wind chills. It's very pretty down here when it snows, and it's fun to watch the horses run and roll and play and become dusted with coats of white. Not much riding happens with the weather like this, but it's good to have a few days inside.

Watch-- now it will be 60 degrees and sunny on Christmas.

I've completed five of my six (planned) applications, the last of which, for U of New England Place, isn't due until January, although I'll likely try and finish it next week if I can. I'm so sick of applications I could vomit. I found Ivy League School's 1000-word limit challenging, but it was nothing compared to UC Somewhere Else's "4000 characters (including spaces)" restriction. How on earth am I supposed to tell UC Somewhere Else anything in 4000 characters (including spaces)?

Now comes the waiting game. I'm just going to keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best. Most schools make admissions decisions between February and March, although in some cases it may be as late as mid-April. If I'm a particularly good candidate I should hear sooner rather than later... Schools will often admit their first picks early (late January or early February), then wait until March before sending out the second batch of admissions letters to the rest.

If I'm really lucky, I might even get invited to go a visit a school sometime in January, almost a sure sign that the school is planning on admitting an applicant. If not, I may be on the ropes until April. Occasionally, schools with admit one group of students, wait until they find out how many students are planning on attending, then, at the last minute, admit a "reserve" group of students to fill any empty spots. This happened to my best friend last year, who applied to seven schools' mathematics programs. She was accepted to one school in early March, but didn't receive admissions decisions from several other schools until April, only a few days before the acceptance deadline (April 15th). This left little time for her to decide on a school, and more or less made it impossible for her to visit schools before choosing. No fun at all.

For most of the programs to which I've applied, the acceptance rate is on the order of 10% or less. So please, if you're up for it, think good thoughts about me getting into grad school. I'd really, really like to take my pick of places. Ivy League School, U Big City, UC Somewhere, UC Somewhere Else, U of New England Place, Yet Another UC... they'd all be good. Especially Ivy League School. Or U Big City. Or UC Somewhere. Yeah... one of those. C'mon grad schools! Accept me! Plus, think about how fun it would be for you to read an entry here about me getting accepted to School of My Choice! I would probably even add graphics and lots of these: !!!!!!! and these: :).

Cowgirl Up

The past two weeks things here have taken a slight turn. After slogging through a couple weeks as roommate to a woman with a warped sense of reality, I moved... again. Yeah. I'd really like to be finished moving for a while. The move was a short one, just across the street, and I'm now living in the basement of my tutor-ee's house.

My junior year in college I got an offer to do an hour's-worth of tutoring in basic chemistry over a break from classes. I decided it couldn't hurt to earn a few extra bucks, never realizing how awesome the arrangement would become. After helping out with chemistry I offered my services up for any other subject- the sciences, math, some English, etc. As a result, I received consistent work once or twice a week for the remainder of my college career. And I became pretty good friends with the family, a single mom and her 16 year-old daughter.

I kept in touch with them this summer while in Wyoming, and they were the ones to suggest the arrangement with the crazy woman across the street when I returned home. They felt bad that things hadn't worked out as planned with the house, so they offered me a way out and invited me to move in with them. After a strange series of unpleasant events across the street, I decided my living situation couldn't get any worse than it was and made the move. Long story.

So now I'm comfortably arranged in the basement with the mom and her daughter. And five dogs. And four cats. And a llama. And four goats. And two pigs. And six calves. And two miniature ponies. And two normal-sized ponies. And a fish. And my three rats.

Oh, and did I mention the 13 horses? As in the 13 performance horses used on a regular basis for competition in rodeos? Those horses?

Yeah. Much nicer over here on the other side of the street.

I've been busier this past week than I was the entire time I was in Wyoming. On top of grad school applications (which I'll hopefully, someday, be finished with), I've been walking dogs, pitching hay, mucking stalls, feeding horses, and riding. And riding, and riding, and riding. Thirteen horses and two ponies take a lot of work, and to keep them in good condition they need a lot of exercise.

Which is where my newest brand of pseudo-employment comes in. Yes, I continue to tutor, to run errands and do odd-jobs, and to walk dogs to cover my room, board, and incidental expenditures. But on top of that I've been requisitioned to help work the horses, at least two every day, to keep them in good shape and prevent them from picking up bad habits. During week one, my butt had never been so sore. During week two, I fell back into my groove, dug up a recollection of a proper seat from deep in my muscle memory, and starting building back muscles that I haven't felt in years.

This weekend, to benefit some of the lesser-used steeds, our group (the girl and her mom, myself, and the horse trainer) took three horses to a gymkhana (a casual rodeo, more or less translated into "games on horseback") to compete. I rode Cash, an antsy quarter horse cross who needs work staying calm at the starting gate. Having never before been in a rodeo, I got a five-day crash course in the events, then entered in the senior's (14+) novice class. We competed in four events: barrels, pole bending, flags, and a "mystery event" that turned out to be "turn and burn."

Most people are at least somewhat familiar with cloverleaf barrels. Pole bending consists of weaving in and out amongst a series of six poles. In both events, knocking over a barrel or a pole will result in a time penalty. Flags is a straightforward course where the rider races in an oval pattern around the arena, first planting a flag in a bucket of sand and then picking another flag out of a bucket before returning to the gate. Turn and burn is a long stretch followed by a complete circle around a barrel before the return (the worst event, since most horses are trained to go only a half-circle around a barrel, not a complete turn). All the events are done at speed and are timed.

Cash and I placed fourth in barrels and second in flags, out of 10 and 15 riders, respectively, in the novice class. In turn and burn Cash got confused about making a full circle around the barrel and pulled wide, and in poles he spooked coming around the first end pole, which a). cost time for me to reset him and b). threw his stride off, which resulted in a downed pole and a time penalty. Ah well...Can't place in everything in your first rodeo after only five days of practice, right?

So I guess thus far, I've been doing pretty well for myself without a job. I'm loving being back home with my family and friends, and I'm living well as a "ranch hand" on a horse ranch. Funny that I spent nearly half a year in the "Cowboy State," and it's only after I leave that I get to cowgirl up.