Down the Rabbit Hole

My reserve of nervous adrenaline was starting to wear down, but it was still exhilarating to see the historic seat of all things eventing in Pennsylvania. The many coops allowing access for the foxhunters and the picturesque lanes perfect for hacking filled my mind with all the things Cappy and I could learn and accomplish here. Once in town, I payed scant notice to the post office, the bank, the store. Errands complete, we drove back to the farm, where we were to meet down at the trailer to start packing things for her trip south.

I gawked a bit at the yellow whirlpool boots, which I had seen in catalogs but not yet in person. I hustled around trying to take care of the stuff she pointed at to load, while Boss both directed and decided to look at her Omnibus.

She provided running commentary as she went over the dressage test for the event her Advanced mare was entered in that weekend: "Oh, shoot. She doesn't know how to do that... And, this, we've never schooled that. Umhum. Umhum. Umhum. Doesn't know how to do that... Umhum... I don't know how to do that... Oh, this will be interesting."

Wait, seriously? Why are you riding her at this level if she can't do half of the stuff on the dressage test?

The little niggling voice: Are you sure this is the person you want to work for?

I asked Boss, "If she hasn't schooled that dressage, why are you running her at Advanced?"

"Oh, she can do the cross country, and that's all people care about anyway. She should be able to do the cross country; she's scopey and she's had a couple of no jump penalty Intermediates. Just hope we don't get eliminated in the dressage."

"I can't imagine running my horse unless I felt we were prepared for the whole level..." Maybe because I am a wimp and don't want to die. Or maybe because I am not an idiot.

"You're kind of strange, hunh?" I'm kind of strange? Pot and kettle, friend. "You have a great memory though, and you seem to know what to do around the horses. It's nice to not have to tell someone 20 times how to do things... Hunh. Why don't you go up to the house and get settled in a bit? Come over to our side of the house around 6 for dinner. Spaghetti."

I gratefully headed up to my attic lair, but the smell bothered me so much that I decided to go nap on the couch in the shared living room.

I sank into peaceful oblivion for a couple hours, to be aroused into a hazy twilight state by the arrival of my housemates. I came sharply awake as they spoke, but kept my eyes closed and my breathing steady.

Another one? God, she just goes through them. And why is that girl sleeping down here? You've seen upstairs. Well, she better not think she can be down here all the time. A howl from George rose up from the basement. That crazy damn dog. We have GOT to talk to the landlord, this is nuts. She does NOT rent this whole house.

OK, at this point I gave up feigning sleep. I felt terribly guilty for being in their living space, but Boss had given me the impression it was my living space, too. I briefly introduced myself, and scuttled up to my attic.

Great. Working for a crazy woman, with horses that are sore that she either doesn't notice, or doesn't think is a problem... roommates that wish I didn't exist, a bizarre smelling place to live with mysterious holes in the plaster in a million year old house... and she doesn't even know how to do the dressage for the event she's entered?!? Uhhh...

It was time to head over for spaghetti dinner.