For the times they are a-changin'
Everything about the weather is right. It is the perfect time of year. It gets light early in the morning and the daylight lasts until 9pm. The temperature has climbed into the 80s with no humidity and a soft breeze to make the day comfortable.All of the flowers and trees are in full bloom making the world look like heaven. It is my favorite time of year.
Not only is the weather perfect it is also my favorite horse show month. It begins the first weekend in May with the Winterthur Steeple Chase Races and ends with my all around favorite,the Devon Horse Show.
The Devon Horse Show is the one show that I have attended and worked in for the past couple decades. It is 15 minutes from where I reside which gives me the home advantage. What I really love about Devon is the variety of disciplines that compete throughout the week. Everything from Saddlebreds, driving competitions, hunter jumpers to sidesaddle. You name it, it's there. It is one of the rare equestrian events that draws horse owners from all over the world. I often work in the barns with South Africans, New Zealanders and British grooms. I always come away feeling like a new world opened up to me for a week.
Sunday was the official opening day. I rode in the traditional carriage parade with my friend Maire and her pony,Bruno. This is my tenth year of riding in this event with someone. Twice with Maire.
The event leaves from a local church and the parade of various horse drawn vehicles drive through the winding,tree lined roads, in to the fair grounds at Devon. People set up along the route with lawn chairs and picnics,waving the exhibitors on. Bruno likes to pretend he is an unbroken mustang when we encounter things along the road. Last year we took out a homeowners mailbox and a lawn chair. Driving with Maire is a load of giggles on how out of control we are. Somehow, in the past ten years of driving with Maire we have never gotten hurt. Just upturned shrubs,knocked down fence posts or cones and an occasional close call of mowing down small children.
Sunday was no exception on the fun factor. It was just sad to see a smaller than usual crowd of vehicles and horses meeting at the church grounds. Usually there are over 50 types of horse drawn vehicles in every shape and size. The lawn was noticeably empty of horse vans. Maire and I are local so it was a quick jaunt with a truck and trailer. For many it means huge tractor trailers that come cross country. The price of fuel had obviously kept many closer to home.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The temperature climbed in to a comfortable high 70s with a soft breeze. A perfect day to drive to the fairgrounds.
As we got Bruno ready and put him to his cart, I kept glancing around to see any familiar faces. As we were called up to our position I realized that this was the extent of the parade. Maybe a third of what usually participates. The larger coaches had dwindled down from the usual eighteen to only four. Only one was owned and driven by people that I have worked for and he was local. I found out from their grooms that they didn't even bother to rent stalls for the week. They were only showing three out of the seven nights and decided it would cost too much.
Bruno was on his best behavior. I think the fact that there were less participants made the parade move a little faster. Bruno is getting close to 25 years old. I think the pace tuckered him out enough to prevent his usual goal of taking out small children who lined along the road.
After the parade I went back to the show grounds to see if I could drum up some work for the week.Being a massage therapist for horses has proven to be a lucrative side business for me. It is how I pay for the upkeep of my own horses. The week of Devon finds me not only massaging various horses but also grooming for different barns. It is a hectic week of starting at 5am and often working past midnight. Usually, I am turning horses or barns away because I have so much work. It is the one week of the year I know will make me enough money to pad me through the summer with extra money to play with. It looks like I am not playing too much this summer.
I found some Saddlebred folks who I have worked for in the past. I massaged two horses and groomed for one that night. I don't enjoy working in these barns because the horses are kept stall bound 24/7 due to their high platform shoes that animate their gait. It makes me so sad to see these horses so empty of outside stimulation. I needed the cash so I did what I came there to do.
Afterwards, I walked back to the section of barns that Brit and the other Coaching exhibitors usually kept their horses. Only three Coaching barns were occupied.I knew Brit wasn't coming up for the show. It was the first time in twelve years I wouldn't see him. The rest of the barns were rented out to Hunter Jumpers or Saddlebreds. I walked down the pavement in between and was sad to see it bare. When I worked with the Coaching barns we would only exhibit at night. This left us with a couple hours to kill in the late afternoon. We would sit outside the barns with lawn chairs and have a couple beers. Every day a guy from Weaver Enterprises (yes, the KFC chicken people)would draw a grid in chalk on the paved walkway in between barns. Each square would have our individual name. We would then each put up five dollars. We would then sit back and watch as exhibitors and their horses walked past and over the chalk grid. The first horse to land a poop in a box would declare that person a winner of the kitty. The noise level could become quite high if there was a near miss or if a horse lifted a tail with the possibility of a score. It got to point that our grid became three barn lengths and even the wealthy owners participating.
Not only was there no chalk grid,there was no one sitting outside the barns,chatting away while waiting for the night rush. The jumpers compete during the day and there is little prep work for the grooms to do. Once they are done for the day, they leave. It is a much larger competitive field and the jumper barns are not friendly with each other. It was strange to see this section so quiet of human interaction.
I left the show grounds at dusk and called Brit from my cell. "I miss everyone," I whined to him. He conceded that it felt weird knowing he wasn't there along with most of the old crew. I asked him if he missed me? "Miss you?" he exclaimed,"why would I miss my hippie groom who weaves flowers in to my Hackneys manes?"
Brit was referring to an incident the first year I worked for him in 1996. There was a fun Scurry driving class on the second night of the show. The horses appearance would not affect the judging, only speed and time through an obstacle course. Since I was bored and there was a pot of flowers along each side of the doorway I had the brilliant idea of adding flowers to the horses braids.
Brit had worked for Prince Philip when he had lived in Britain. He also worked with Gloria Austen,the Olympic driving champion. His work ethic reflects that. What was I thinking,having some fun? I can still see his face when he had realized too late that his horses had flowers in their manes when they were entering the ring.
Brit took first place in this class. When the judge pinned the ribbon on to the near side horse he grinned and told Brit he liked the flowers. I think Brit was properly horrified at such a soft touch. He gave me a stern lecture afterwards, ripped the flowers from their manes and told me this was not how he runs things.
The next day there was a great shot of the Hackneys going through the last set of cones was on the front page of The Horse of Delaware Valley. The caption read," Hackneys that knew they were ribbon winners already!" The article then went on to gush what a sensational driver Brit was and how he was a fore runner of revitalizing the sport here in the USA. It was a great boost for his career to make the cover of a primarily Hunter Jumper publication. That cover made his name known in the American driving circle.
Brit tossed the paper at me while I was sitting by the grid. "Well, there you go," was all he said to me. I read the caption and looked up at him. I detected a slight upward turn on one side of his mouth. It is the closest one gets to Brit conceding that a break in protocol had a happy ending. He then placed a five dollar bet on an empty square and sat with us for the rest of the afternoon. It was the beginning of our long time friendship.
I sat in the car and we talked for awhile, reminiscing on some of our adventures in the barns. We agreed that things in the equestrian circle are changing. The turn of the economy and the rising fuel costs are affecting the show season. He had no plans to travel north this summer. I had no barns lined up that were traveling south. We concluded that we hoped to see each other some time next year.
"Eva," Brit said at the end of the phone call, "you should be up in the stands trying to land yourself a wealthy husband. You won't find him working inside a barn."
I knew he meant well. He,himself, has tried many a time to land a wealthy wife. Neither one of us has gotten there in the finance part of romance. Actually,neither one of us has seemed too sucessful in the romance aspect,either.
As I drove home, my friend Dru,called. She has box seats for the entire week at Devon. She asked if I would like to use them? "I thought you might enjoy being a spectator for a change," is what she said to me.
Even if I am not back in the barns I know I can still appreciate that this is the oldest, long running, horse show in the country. It epitomizes what the Philadelphia Main Line is all about. Sit in a box with the wealthy sect all week? Maybe it's time for a change.
"I would love to!" I told her.
Yes,time for a change.
Not only is the weather perfect it is also my favorite horse show month. It begins the first weekend in May with the Winterthur Steeple Chase Races and ends with my all around favorite,the Devon Horse Show.
The Devon Horse Show is the one show that I have attended and worked in for the past couple decades. It is 15 minutes from where I reside which gives me the home advantage. What I really love about Devon is the variety of disciplines that compete throughout the week. Everything from Saddlebreds, driving competitions, hunter jumpers to sidesaddle. You name it, it's there. It is one of the rare equestrian events that draws horse owners from all over the world. I often work in the barns with South Africans, New Zealanders and British grooms. I always come away feeling like a new world opened up to me for a week.
Sunday was the official opening day. I rode in the traditional carriage parade with my friend Maire and her pony,Bruno. This is my tenth year of riding in this event with someone. Twice with Maire.
The event leaves from a local church and the parade of various horse drawn vehicles drive through the winding,tree lined roads, in to the fair grounds at Devon. People set up along the route with lawn chairs and picnics,waving the exhibitors on. Bruno likes to pretend he is an unbroken mustang when we encounter things along the road. Last year we took out a homeowners mailbox and a lawn chair. Driving with Maire is a load of giggles on how out of control we are. Somehow, in the past ten years of driving with Maire we have never gotten hurt. Just upturned shrubs,knocked down fence posts or cones and an occasional close call of mowing down small children.
Sunday was no exception on the fun factor. It was just sad to see a smaller than usual crowd of vehicles and horses meeting at the church grounds. Usually there are over 50 types of horse drawn vehicles in every shape and size. The lawn was noticeably empty of horse vans. Maire and I are local so it was a quick jaunt with a truck and trailer. For many it means huge tractor trailers that come cross country. The price of fuel had obviously kept many closer to home.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The temperature climbed in to a comfortable high 70s with a soft breeze. A perfect day to drive to the fairgrounds.
As we got Bruno ready and put him to his cart, I kept glancing around to see any familiar faces. As we were called up to our position I realized that this was the extent of the parade. Maybe a third of what usually participates. The larger coaches had dwindled down from the usual eighteen to only four. Only one was owned and driven by people that I have worked for and he was local. I found out from their grooms that they didn't even bother to rent stalls for the week. They were only showing three out of the seven nights and decided it would cost too much.
Bruno was on his best behavior. I think the fact that there were less participants made the parade move a little faster. Bruno is getting close to 25 years old. I think the pace tuckered him out enough to prevent his usual goal of taking out small children who lined along the road.
After the parade I went back to the show grounds to see if I could drum up some work for the week.Being a massage therapist for horses has proven to be a lucrative side business for me. It is how I pay for the upkeep of my own horses. The week of Devon finds me not only massaging various horses but also grooming for different barns. It is a hectic week of starting at 5am and often working past midnight. Usually, I am turning horses or barns away because I have so much work. It is the one week of the year I know will make me enough money to pad me through the summer with extra money to play with. It looks like I am not playing too much this summer.
I found some Saddlebred folks who I have worked for in the past. I massaged two horses and groomed for one that night. I don't enjoy working in these barns because the horses are kept stall bound 24/7 due to their high platform shoes that animate their gait. It makes me so sad to see these horses so empty of outside stimulation. I needed the cash so I did what I came there to do.
Afterwards, I walked back to the section of barns that Brit and the other Coaching exhibitors usually kept their horses. Only three Coaching barns were occupied.I knew Brit wasn't coming up for the show. It was the first time in twelve years I wouldn't see him. The rest of the barns were rented out to Hunter Jumpers or Saddlebreds. I walked down the pavement in between and was sad to see it bare. When I worked with the Coaching barns we would only exhibit at night. This left us with a couple hours to kill in the late afternoon. We would sit outside the barns with lawn chairs and have a couple beers. Every day a guy from Weaver Enterprises (yes, the KFC chicken people)would draw a grid in chalk on the paved walkway in between barns. Each square would have our individual name. We would then each put up five dollars. We would then sit back and watch as exhibitors and their horses walked past and over the chalk grid. The first horse to land a poop in a box would declare that person a winner of the kitty. The noise level could become quite high if there was a near miss or if a horse lifted a tail with the possibility of a score. It got to point that our grid became three barn lengths and even the wealthy owners participating.
Not only was there no chalk grid,there was no one sitting outside the barns,chatting away while waiting for the night rush. The jumpers compete during the day and there is little prep work for the grooms to do. Once they are done for the day, they leave. It is a much larger competitive field and the jumper barns are not friendly with each other. It was strange to see this section so quiet of human interaction.
I left the show grounds at dusk and called Brit from my cell. "I miss everyone," I whined to him. He conceded that it felt weird knowing he wasn't there along with most of the old crew. I asked him if he missed me? "Miss you?" he exclaimed,"why would I miss my hippie groom who weaves flowers in to my Hackneys manes?"
Brit was referring to an incident the first year I worked for him in 1996. There was a fun Scurry driving class on the second night of the show. The horses appearance would not affect the judging, only speed and time through an obstacle course. Since I was bored and there was a pot of flowers along each side of the doorway I had the brilliant idea of adding flowers to the horses braids.
Brit had worked for Prince Philip when he had lived in Britain. He also worked with Gloria Austen,the Olympic driving champion. His work ethic reflects that. What was I thinking,having some fun? I can still see his face when he had realized too late that his horses had flowers in their manes when they were entering the ring.
Brit took first place in this class. When the judge pinned the ribbon on to the near side horse he grinned and told Brit he liked the flowers. I think Brit was properly horrified at such a soft touch. He gave me a stern lecture afterwards, ripped the flowers from their manes and told me this was not how he runs things.
The next day there was a great shot of the Hackneys going through the last set of cones was on the front page of The Horse of Delaware Valley. The caption read," Hackneys that knew they were ribbon winners already!" The article then went on to gush what a sensational driver Brit was and how he was a fore runner of revitalizing the sport here in the USA. It was a great boost for his career to make the cover of a primarily Hunter Jumper publication. That cover made his name known in the American driving circle.
Brit tossed the paper at me while I was sitting by the grid. "Well, there you go," was all he said to me. I read the caption and looked up at him. I detected a slight upward turn on one side of his mouth. It is the closest one gets to Brit conceding that a break in protocol had a happy ending. He then placed a five dollar bet on an empty square and sat with us for the rest of the afternoon. It was the beginning of our long time friendship.
I sat in the car and we talked for awhile, reminiscing on some of our adventures in the barns. We agreed that things in the equestrian circle are changing. The turn of the economy and the rising fuel costs are affecting the show season. He had no plans to travel north this summer. I had no barns lined up that were traveling south. We concluded that we hoped to see each other some time next year.
"Eva," Brit said at the end of the phone call, "you should be up in the stands trying to land yourself a wealthy husband. You won't find him working inside a barn."
I knew he meant well. He,himself, has tried many a time to land a wealthy wife. Neither one of us has gotten there in the finance part of romance. Actually,neither one of us has seemed too sucessful in the romance aspect,either.
As I drove home, my friend Dru,called. She has box seats for the entire week at Devon. She asked if I would like to use them? "I thought you might enjoy being a spectator for a change," is what she said to me.
Even if I am not back in the barns I know I can still appreciate that this is the oldest, long running, horse show in the country. It epitomizes what the Philadelphia Main Line is all about. Sit in a box with the wealthy sect all week? Maybe it's time for a change.
"I would love to!" I told her.
Yes,time for a change.
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