So, my friend/roomate/student/pest (jk) reminded me that I did make this blog named after my Event Team ( I have big dreams that someday people will know Shamrock Eventing the same way they know OCET) <--- wishful thinking I know, so I should write about some "eventing" things. And since she pointed this out and I ran into another friend, Chelsea this weekend I thought I'd share how my life is one big farce (Erin I loved this word so I borrowed it).

In the spring (February of 2009) when I still had delusions of grandeur and was planning on running a 3* that fall with Cam, my friend Chelsea and I decided we were going to venture down to Pine Top Horse Trials to get a good spring run in. I was running the Intermediate and she was running Prelim. We were excited, we got to take her brand new rig all the way to Georgia. The weekend went well. We saw some old friends and had good runs on our horses. It was the trip home that was the problem.

We finished a little late on Sunday, but knew we would be ok driving home because both of us were proficient at driving trailers so we could take turns. The trip was going smoothly, but we were both getting tired. It happened when it was my shift (naturally) and we were driving over Jellico Mountain.
         -An aside here a moment. My mother hated Jellico. She used to say the devil had cursed it. Whenever its sunny and you drive over Jellico it rains, or snows or sleets or something. Naturally because of my mothers hatred of it I feel I need to hate it too, and now I have reason.
So I'm boppin along happy as can be because this rig travels so nicely, right up this nasty mountain (and yes people to me its a mountain, I'm not from Colorado and I've never seen those mountains) and people keep flashing their lights in my rearview mirror. I think nothing of it, they must be flashing a warning at the people going the other direction because of the nasty weather we are driving through. Well, we decide we need a bathroom/gas break and driver change so we stop at the little town of Jellico.....on a Sunday night.....in February....at about 10PM. All of these things spell horror movie waiting to happen.

We pull into the gas station and Chelsea jumps out of the truck to run in to the restroom. Its my turn to pay for gas so I hop out and start the pump. While its running I decide to go open the trailer door and check on the boys, who are both happily munching hay ignoring me. While I'm walking back to the back of the trailer I instinctively check the hitch and then look down at the driver side trailer tires. There's supposed to be two on each side. We're missing one. I immediately choke. I am floored. All the bolts are there, but there's no tire, no rim, no nothing. The tire behind it is fine and for all intensive purposes the rest of the trailer and the horses are fine. I am floored and have no idea what to tell Chelsea (this rig is BRAND NEW). She walks out of the gas station then and I look up. The only thing I can think to say is, " Ok, Chelsea, don't panic." Gee, thats inspiring. What do most people do when you say that? So you can guess what follows. I ask her to slowly come look at the trailer and tell me whats missing. At first she doesn't see it, but then she does and she makes this interesting strangled noise. I still to this day can't begin to imitate it, but it's what I would have done in the same situation.

Now we are stuck in a gas station, on Jellico, on a Sunday night, in February, with no tire. At first we think its ok. At least we have a spare.  Then we realize, because the tire apparently decided to dramatically rip away from the trailer and leave the bolts...they are melted/seared/stuck on the drum (not sure if its called a drum, but ya get the idea) and we cannot no matter how hard both of us try get them loosened and off. We still think we are ok, because Chelsea has US Rider. (Another aside here. Since this situation and another that I was in with a trailer I have since decided US Rider sucks and will never use it) US Rider is like AAA for horse people- since AAA doesn't help trailers (annoying). So we call US Rider. What ensues is Chelsea screaming at the dispatcher because its a Sunday night, on Jellico and they can't possibly find someone to help us (they have a 24hr guarantee- yea right), so we will have to wait till morning. Again, we aren't panicking yet. We are both on the phone with various people trying to get help and when this all fails we finally walk into the gas station to the lonely clerk ( who in the end was our saviour). She tells us that theres this guy at the truck stop down the road, we can call him, he will fix it. So we call, Ed (not his real name since I try to block this whole painful experience out of my head I don't remember it- and well my memory is crap). Ed tells us he will meet us at the station, which is good because neither of us want to move the rig.

An hour later Ed shows up. We had been sitting inside in the booths of an Arbys attached to this station watching for him because it was cold. Out of this old oil covered pickup steps a 65+ yr old man who looks like he's half-starved and had stepped straight off the set of Deliverance. He walks up to the trailer and pets the horses noses and stares at the tire (well what was left) and scratches his head. This is very inspiring when your cold and all you want to do is get home. We go talk to him. He tells us he thinks he can fix it but its gonna take awhile. We might as well go inside and stay warm. What follows is 5 excruciating hours of Ed fighting with those bolts, leaving, coming back with new tools, leaving again...coming back.... using power tools.....SMOKING by the GAS pump...WTF<---- I thought when he did that while he was standing there staring at the pieces of the bolts and petting the horses that Chelsea was finally gonna blow a gasket. I didn't think either of us could take much more. He switches between telling us we have to wait till morning and that he can fix it, although at one point he was so red in the face we both thought we would also be calling an ambulance. And all the while he refused help from, "us Ky girls".

In the end, Ed gets the spare tire on the trailer. We spent 7 hours sitting in those booths of the closed Arbys. The horses, bless House and Cam for being super troopers for standing on that trailer the whole time (there was nowhere to unload and walk them) and then for not colicing the minute we got home. And we finally at about 4:30AM left the little gas station that was our home overnight and limped home slowly...(it took us almost 4 hours because we were terrified to drive fast). Both of us were zombies at our respective jobs and I ended up pulling a huge muscle in my back from sitting in a plastic fast food restaurant booth for 7 hours, that and the stress of having almost unknowingly thrown us off the side of a mountain because we were cruisin with a missing tire.

SO, next time someone flashes their headlights at you, take the time to think about why have done this....and no its not the urban myth that a gang is coming to shoot you....

signing off~Mandy

Pineapple Rings really?

Since I am in to sharing my blunders. I thought since it's another rainy day, I probably won't be riding or running tonight, so I'm going to make another sad (if only you knew) attempt at cooking. I am an active person. Somehow in my lifetime I never really took the time to learn to cook. My Mom wasn't the worlds greatest cook, but my Dad is pretty good. My two older sisters are good at cooking too. I just don't have the patience. My time is spent teaching students and riding horses or taking care of my animals (that includes roomates). Its amazing how I can have the patience to work with a young horse for hours on end or watch a student trot cirles around me for days on end and never tire of it, but if I am reading a recipe and it isn't working the way I want it to I get so mad. The following mishap is mostly because of my sheer impatience. If I had just taken the time to listen I might not have almost ruined dinner.

A couple of years ago I lived in the small town of Midway (technically where I live now is in Georgetown so no correcting me) with two roomates (how do I always end up with two?). In this household we took turns making dinner each night, so every third night it was my turn. Oh, how I dreaded those nights. I knew I couldn't make macaroni every time, so I figured I'd make an attempt to make something better. I went to Kroger and they had a big sale on Ham. I was excited. I'd seen my Mom make ham in the past and thought for sure i'd be fine. My confidence failed me the minute I got home.

I decided to call Justin, who was at his barn taking care of his horse. He was the roomate who knew how to cook and I was sure he could help me get started over the phone. He told me the temperature the oven needed to be and to put the ham in a casserole dish and to get toothpicks and toothpick pineapple all over the ham to help keep it from drying out. Here's where I told him I'm in trouble. I didn't know I needed pineapple at the store...darnit I thought that was just to dress the damn thing up, not to help somehow. He told me we had pineapple in the fridge (apparently people eat that stuff as a snack daily). I thought for sure now I was golden.

 I looked in the fridge and there it was, pineapple chunks. I didn't see anything else (impatience strike) so I thought, hey these will work, and off I go spearing pinapple chunks onto this half pound ham (totally guessing on size here). I put my ham in the oven and off I go to play in the back yard with Ilsa, my German Shepard. Im out there for what seems like eternity and decide I'm bored and I need to check the ham. Oh, boy did it smell good. Justin had said it needed quite some time to cook so I went to watch TV. A little while later everyone comes home. Justin comes in the house and says it smells good, so I'm proud, I may have finally cooked something edible. I ask him if he will go check on it and tell me how its looking. A debate ensues where he says it smells fine, it must be fine. I don't agree, just go check it is all I ask.

I stay in the family room, hear Justin open the oven in the kitchen, and then a looonnggg pause. Now I'm worried (oh dear god the ham has gone poof, it's black and theres nothing left I'd better get out the pizza coupons and order something). I sit there in agony waiting for something, anything, just tell me! Justin says from the kitchen, "Mandy come here" with such incredulty that I am terrified. I go slinking in the kitchen. Justin has pulled the ham out of the oven and its a sight. It looks like a kid who has had knots put in her hair has stuck her finger in a light socket and gotten shocked until every little knot is a smoking, burning mess.

I am so shocked. I don't know what I thougth was going to happen. I think I thought I'd walk into the kitchen and there would be this Suzie homemaker commercial moment where he's set the ham on the oven and there's a little halo around it and some angelic music. He starts taking the burnt chunks-o-char off of the ham and throwing them away. He asks me what I was thinking? Thats what the rings-o-pineapple were for. They are on the shelf in the fridge right NEXT to where the chunks were. I told him sheepishly that I didn't see them and I thought the chunks would work, besides the rings with the cherries in the middle were something you saw on a 1965 sitcom on TV (insert dubious look here).

It turns out that the ham was actually pretty good, what we got to eat of it anyway. Everyone had served themselves dinner and we are all happily eating (actually more shocked because it wasn't a dry throat closing, burnt tasting mess) when we hear a *thud* in the kitchen. All three of us pause and I look around for Ilsa. She's always right near me. We then hear a scraping noise in the kitchen and since we are all in the other room and we don't have any cats, something is wrong. We get up and run in the kitchen to see Ilsa jet, tail tucked from just under the table where she has pulled the last hunk of ham down and had been knawing at it furtively. She thought my attempt at cooking was so good she had to share too!

I was so mad at her that day, but I guess I should have been flattered, maybe? My dog thought I'd finally gotten dinner right too.

And yet I still can't cook to save my life. If it comes from a can or a box I'm golden. If your daring and I decide to cook one night, come try it. If you can keep it down, you might be able to apply to be on one of those TV shows,  Survivor or Fear Factor.

signing off~Mandy

Snoring- Flying children! Oh my!

My family has a snoring problem. My mom was the worst. She talked in her sleep and had one of those snores that started out really quiet (heavy breathing) and ended with a house rumbling chainsaw sound. This took around 7 or 8 snores to round up there, but man once it did you spent the rest of the night with the pillow over your head and woke in the morning to her telling you if you didn’t sleep so funny you wouldn’t have a cric in your neck!  I always wondered why as a kid I woke up every morning wrapped in my blankets like a mummy, head at the footboard, or hanging sideways off my bed. I now know it was because every time my mother snored (from across the house) It made me toss and turn. I’m not nearly as violent in my sleep now.

My favorite story about my mom’s snoring happened when we went on our annual trip to Atlanta, Georgia to go shopping. We went on this trip with my Aunt (my godmother and my Mom’s best friend) and two of her sons. We loved this trip. It meant that we got to stay at the Peachtree Plaza Hotel and watch Cable and jump on the beds and generally get into a ton of trouble (This is where I lay blame on the boys- as little girls we were quiet and demure)<--ok I am so leaving this in there because I snorted when I wrote it…if someone ever called me demure I think I’d have to punch them.

This particular time somehow our room only had one queen bed, a pullout couch and a table with two huge plush chairs. Annie was small enough that she just pushed the two plush chairs together and slept. My Mom and my Aunt Mary shared the bed. Colin, Chandler and I were the older kids, albeit small enough that all three of us fit on the pullout couch. We were about the age that we all thought it was funny when someone farted (I never outgrew that) and naturally like most kids when its time to go to bed we wanted none of it. It all starts with the games where you see if someone can jump on the bed without waking a parent or someone tries to run out of the room and back without getting caught or someone throws something at Annie across the room or sneaks up and farts on her in the dark...(see what I mean, I was not nice to my little sister) Then we get yelled at and we try to sleep.

It was even  harder  to sleep in the same room with my Mom when she was snoring. While Annie and I knew we were in trouble, the boys didn’t.  So, once we had settled down, the snoring began, quiet at first ( I knew it was coming and put the pillow over my head) getting louder and louder with each breath. ( I still don’t know how Aunt Mary slept through it) Colin slaps his hands on the bed and says, “oh my god your Mom is snoring SO loud.” Naturally we all start giggling because its getting worse. He gets more ticked off because she now sounds like we've walked into a construction site in the same room.  (as an aside, at the time I think Colin was playing baseball and had a pretty good throw) Colin tries a couple of times in vain at calling, “shut up, shuuut uuuuppp” to no avail so he takes a spare pillow off the floor and launches it in the direction of the parents bed. We all cringe when we hear it hit, but are laughing so what happened next naturally made it worse. The pillow hit my mother square in the face and she sits up in the bed, points out in front of her and says, “I think……… there are children flying in here” We lost it. We even have Annie awake and laughing now.  My Aunt finally wakes up and says,”you guys leave Jane alone she’s trying to sleep.” Chandler replies,”she’s snoring so loud we CAN’T sleep!”  Aunt Mary tells him if we would all just settle down and go to sleep we wouldn’t hear her.  Yea right.

So, we try, we really do. We all settle down, she’s back to her heavy breathing and we’re trying in vain to fall asleep.        

 Here we go again….louder and louder until Colin starts getting irritated again and throws another pillow at her. I give him credit for good aim because he was on the far side of the bed and she was on the other end of the room, but he’s able to hit her in the face again. This time she sits up and says,” you need to come down now.” To which we again die laughing.

At this point I think Colin had chastised her enough that she either quieted down, or we all were so exhausted from laughing that we finally went to sleep, but this is one of my favorite stories of all time. I miss my Mom every day, but will always remember our awesome trips to Atlanta.

signing off~ Mandy

Eventing Committment

I’m feeling nostalgic today. I just read about all the cool upper level riders doing the Fair Hill International Three-Day and that the Pan-Ams are finishing up and it makes me miss competing Cam, so I thought I’d share a funny story about the last Advanced I ran with him at Millbrook HT August of 2010.

I was so excited then. My horse was brilliant. We were headed to the CIC3* at Richland after Millbrook and then on to the 3* at Fair Hill. If he ran well at those I’d run my favorite event, The Fork in the spring and then on hopefully to Rolex in the spring of 2011.

                                     Jenn and I watching the water jump at Millbrook being ridden....it rode a lot better than our faces are implying

The adventure as it was to be was embarked by myself and two friends who were all running Advanced.  Jenn, Heather and I were up to the task of the 16+ hour trip up to New York where none of us had ever been. Upon arrival we figured out that our stalls were as far away from anything as they could be, including the water sources and that’s where the bumbling weekend started.

We had set out on this trip with no idea who we would get to help us when we got there. At the time Jenn and I were taking jump lessons with a showjumper, Craig Shegog (he’s awesome) and all three of us had used different dressage trainers, but none of us was consistently taking lessons from an upper level event trainer. I had ridden with Cathy Wieschhoff and Karen O’Connor and knew Missy Ransehousen, Dorothy Crowell, and rest of the OCET crew and Jenn had ridden with Kyle Carter. None of those people were going up to Millbrook this time, so we had to find someone else. None of us knew anyone who was entered either, but we knew that since we also had never been around this course that we needed help.  After many phone calls it was decided we should ask Buck Davidson to let us walk with him.

So, while we were trying to arrange this we decide to go find our way around this course by ourselves. What we didn’t know is that nearing the end of this course there is a GIGANTIC hill that you have to gallop down. Not only do you have to gallop down said hill you have to jump through a keyhole from which it looks as if you have to jump into outter space. This is where we all stand and stare down at the bottom of the nearly 100ft drop and say our prayers…did I mention that NOW I have health insurance? I didn’t at that time.  We decide we had best head down so we start walking. I have never walked down a hill like this. It made my shins hurt just looking at it. About halfway down, Jenn says, “I can’t take this anymore- I’m committeddddd!!!!” and ends up running like Sonic the Hedghog, legs awheeling faster than a rocket down the hill. It’s a miracle she doesn’t fall. Heather and I are laughing so hard, we do fall and end up scooting down the last of the hill on our bums.

Naturally later when we walk the course, Buck tells us we had better get our butts in the tack and lean back or we’re going to have an “I’m committed” moment like Jenn and the end result won’t be as fun.

In the end, Jenn and Heather had a brilliant weekend at their first advanced and I had a heart wrenching last Advanced on Cam, but I will never forget that damned hill and hope to hell I never have to see it again!

                                                           Heather walking down said gigantic drop.....

signing off~ Mandy

Sometimes A little Shock is a Good Thing

In the spirit of the tough mudder I thought I’d talk about Christmas some years ago and my little sister getting the living snot shocked out of her.

We lived in a house in Paris, Ky on a beautiful horse farm. When you drove up to the house you came up to the back door. Some of you knew my mother. She loved to decorate for Christmas and the outside of our house always had some sort of garland with lights strung around it. This particular time my mother decided since we drove up to the back door that she would decorate that too. So in true Jane fashion she got beautiful live garland, wrapped it in white lights and strung it around the doorway (important aside note… the back door had a metal doorframe and doorjamb AND those lights probably had been re-used about 100 times). It looked brilliant. What happened to my sister was brilliant to…well to me anyway…it was hilarious.

It was a cold December day when it happened. We came home and it was raining and cold so we ran for the door. My Mom unlocked the door and hurtled inside and I followed….Annie didn’t. Next thing we hear is a small wail from outside, “muoooommm I can’t get in!!!” followed by Mom saying, “why not ? Get in the house! Its pouring rain out there!” To which Annie pitifully replied, “I can’t get in! The door is shocking me!” At this I about fall over I am laughing so hard, followed by my Mom yelling at me to go open the door so Annie can get in.

Now I can’t say my little sister and I were/are ever really very nice to eachother. We are both hardheaded and stubborn, which usually makes for some epic fights. I went to the door to see what was wrong. I looked outside and there’s Annie standing pitifully in the rain afraid to touch the door. “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you get in?” comes out in my most taunting voice, because I know she’s telling the truth, but me being me I want to see her do it again. She tells me every time she touches the door it shocks her, so I decide I need to try this (I think this may be some insight into my own stupidity, since it happened to her, I must try and see if its just her or me too. Is this what they call a Psychopath? or sociopath?- doing something over and over expecting a different result) and walk out the door.  I turn because its cold and run right back in, no shock. Annie then tries to follow and screams because the door again shocks her.  I fall on the floor laughing so hard that I have tears rolling down my face and proceed to go back out and in three times showing her its fine. Then because it’s my mean sister nature begin to taunt more, “ whats wrong with you there is nothing wrong with that door!” 

This ends with Annie in tears (and me getting yelled at by our Mom to just let her in the damn house) so, I open the door for her, but just for good measure (because I got scolded by Mom for being mean) I swing the door right as she goes in so she squeeks and has to shoot by.

To this day we still don’t know the reason she was conducting electiricity. I told her it was because she had metal in her brain- which she believed until we were some years older. It was most likely a short because those lights were so old and its a wonder we didn't burn our house down, but every time I tell this story (yesterday in Equine Lab when I was trying to get people into the Tough Mudder) it reduces me to laughing tears.

And since I am still on the Tough Mudder. It looks like we might shape up to have quite a nice team (though more are welcome). Now if I could just get this to happen when I put together a Motley crew to run the HT at Team Challenege.... because inevitably one of us biffs it in show jump (last year it was me) and someone has trouble on cross-country, then someone has a great round and someone withdraws, and while I know this happens with team events all the time, I just wish I could get it right once. :)

Thats all for now. Have a good Friday and make sure you don't get shocked!

signing off~Mandy

Rain and Mud.. and Warrior races

What an ugly day...rain, nothing to do in the office, rain, unhappy college students, rain.....

And now on to more fun things. I have decided thanks to fellow eventer Laine Ashker that I am going to get into doing a Tough Mudder. For those of you who do not know what that is, look it up...kidding. Its this 10-12 mile warrier run that was developed by British Special Forces to increase awareness and comraderie between the forces. Included in the run are climbing walls, monkey bars, mud pits, jumping off high dives, crawling through tunnels, under wires in the mud, climbing steep muddy banks, running through high voltage electric wires (holy Darwin awards), and of course running. It sounds like something only the insane would do, so naturally I am excited to try it.

Now for those of you who know me- I am accident prone. I've been kicked in the face, kneed in the eye (25 stitches later), kicked in the groin, fallen out of a hayloft, fallen off horses more times than I can count and at least once a day my pesky depth perception will cause me to misjudge a doorway or turn and slam a shoulder or a leg into said stationary object. In trying to do this race Im asking to get hurt, but then again about two months ago I did jump out of a perfectly good airplane for fun. At least now I have health insurance.....

I guess thats all for now, if anyone has any interest on being on my team for this fun mud run please feel free to let me know. The more the merrier :) - plus something about trying to climb a 12 foot wall with no ropes screams to me MORE PEOPLE!

signing off~ Mandy

A quick Note

I thought I'd start off by saying I only want to do this because so many people are always asking of my stories. I tend to get in the most interesting situations and hope that writing them down will make it easier to remember the whole story. That and practicing typing will help with my current job.

SO, a little about me. My name is Mandy. I live in Kentucky and I am an avid eventer. I have run through the Advanced level on a horse named, 3 Sleets to the Wind. Long name, very cool horse. I'll have to talk more about him another day. I retired him last year because his feet just weren't holding up. I now have a smart 7yr old Thoroughbred mare named, Miss Airheart AKA Mira. She is currently competing Training and about to move up to Preliminary. I hope she will be as brilliant as Cam was.

I also have two dogs, Ilsa, a German Shepard and Jace, a Border Collie. If it weren't for them I don't think I'd make it through my days.

And finally I have two roomates, Kerry, and Catherine. Both have been students of mine and are friends and while we all live in harmony, sometimes we annoy the hell out of eachother and sometimes I don't think any of us would be happy if it were any other way.

Now I guess I'll fire this off and start on the stories that people apparently find so interesting....

signing off~ Mandy