green rider on a green horse
The love of my life, Onyx, my daughter’s 12 year old OTTB, had the honor of participating in a clinic with none other than Boyd Martin — yes, that Boyd Martin, the one who married Silva. Don’t ask how it happened, it just did. I had the dubious honor of doing the first day of the clinic. Mr. Martin has a unique ability to size up a horse and rider combination within seconds and determine exactly what they need to do to get better. To me, he said, “A green rider on a green horse.” Ooof! We all know how that works — an abomination at best. To my daughter, on the same horse, one day later, “Looks like you’ve done a bit of jumping.” One would think that by virtue of writing the checks (mostly good, some not so much) alone, I would garner some respect. Yeah, that’s not the way the horse world works. My burning question: Does Silva know you wear that hat? I think not.
I’m a good broodmare?
Is that a compliment or an insult? I suppose it all depends on who it’s coming from — in this case, Bob Smith, owner of Netherwood Acres, after I told him I had my third child when I was 41. Bob’s 84 and still riding, still jumping cross-country courses. I don’t think he was coming onto me, but he did tell me that I was “cool” and warned me not to tell his wife, Lisa, that he said that. Lisa’s at least 30 years younger than Bob, but my guess is that her broodmare days are probably over, too.
snoeberry 