It is all about the hashtag these days. #this, #that, #andtheother. If you are past a certain age like me, you still occasionally call it a pound sign…and get odd looks from the younger generation. It was only last year that I dipped my toes into the Twitter pool. I must admit that I am still not an effective tweeter, and properly hashtagging and tagging fellow Twitter users is not my forte. The other challenging twist to Twitter is that you only get 140 characters in which to make your point, so it forces you to really think about your sentence structure and word usage – no superfluous words allowed.
My tweets are usually confined to my thoughts about horse ownership and barn life. In case you are not on Twitter (if you are, you can find me at @wholovesike), here are some of my random thoughts that fall into the category of #equestrianproblems.
Horse hair is: a fashion statement, a condiment, a home accessory, or all of the above?
Drug chemistry is a good thing…banamine to the rescue again.
Leaving your horse’s uneaten Stud Muffin in your pocket means you will be cleaning lots of little crumbs from the dryer.
60 minute lesson of mostly sitting trot =1440 minutes of soreness.
Alison+Ike=5 Horseflies=0 – why does it feel like we are still losing the Battle of the Flies?
Hot,humid weather+rubber reins+sweaty hands – riding gloves =loose reins+ pathetic half halts.
% $#% Apparently, my white
#dressage show breeches decided to become pale blue in the washing machine.
That moment during your
#dressage lesson when it feels like your graduate work oral exams when you don’t know the answer.
To wash my horse’s laundry with mine or do a separate load? That is the question.
That moment you realize your horse is going to bite the farrier before you can intervene.
Picking frozen mud out of my horse’s hooves is like chipping a concrete block with a butter knife.
Dressed warmly enough to handle the cold temperature at the barn, but I looked like Ralphie’s little brother in
I don’t recommend driving with spurs still strapped to your boots.
Finding a shriveled carrot in the washing machine 2 loads later…
Yes I wore my fleece-lined winter riding breeches to walk my dogs. No I don’t care what people thought…I was warm!
Ending up dirtier than your
#horse by the time you are done currying and brushing off the crust of mud.
Leaving dirty barn rags in your new car=no more new car smell.
The realization that you are the one holding back your horse’s progress.
With the volume of hair in my car, it makes me think my
#horses have been taking my car for joy rides while I sleep.
Hearing from your barn that your
#horses removed the hot wire and fence between them so they could play…
Wiping your face with a towel then realizing you already used it to wipe dirt from your horse’s nostrils…
Forget the pumice stone, my feet need a hoof rasp to be sandal-ready.
When you horse is so tall you don’t see the dirt on his topline until you are mounted.
Paid my horse’s chiropractic bill yesterday so that he could act like a bucking bronco today.
Watch out SI swimsuit models, I have my first
#equestrian tan lines of the year.
Going from First Level to Second Level is like jumping from elementary school to graduate school in a single bound.
When your trainer gets on your
#horse and says “We have work to do.”
My braiding skills leave much to be desired. My poor
#horse looks like a beauty school reject.
Thinking your white saddle pad is still white until you get a new one.
I think I blinded my husband with my pale
Finding your underwear stuck to the Velcro of a polo wrap…after you get to the barn.
Why is breathing the first thing I forget to do when riding my
The trailer always looks like a crime scene after a
So desperate to ride that I rode in the rain until I could no longer see clearly through my glasses.
Putting on your riding helmet when it is still wet from your sweaty ride the day before…
Phew, offended myself when I wiped away the sweat on my face with my gloved hands…time to wash the gloves I suppose.
I need to set aside my perfectionist, OCD tendencies and be okay with being a “beginner” with my dressage work.