I picked T up today after school, eager to see how he's doing on his first day back after his Weekend Of Excruciating Penile/Toenail Pain (I hear they're opening at Coachella). He was my priority today, but always I'm trying to plan ahead and find the time I can squeeze in for a little barn time. I figured, the horses were out for more than 2 hours each on Friday and Saturday, so it's okay if they get non-riding exercise in turnout or lunging or whatever today. I need to take T to the pediatrician for a follow-up Tuesday, so I won't be able to ride or really spend time then, but Wednesday--maybe Wednesday!
Then I see this.
Now, 98 might not seem that hot (especially when it was 1-0-fucking-8 two weeks ago today), but the barn property is an OVEN and is typically significantly hotter than recorded temperatures.
When I was 13, I would having riding lessons in 20 degree weather, my fingers painfully frozen in the rein-clutched position and the snot freezing in my sinuses, and my mother then drove my horse-happy little ass (I miss having a little ass) over to Dairy Queen where I'd blissfully order and then scarf down a Blizzard. (I miss having a metabolism that let me eat Blizzards.)
When I was 16, I rode in a horse show with rain clouds looming ominously and thunder growling menacingly, the sheets of rain waiting until I was in my equitation class to completely soak me and my grumpy thoroughbred lesson horse. I didn't care--I rode and I won ribbons.
Hell, when I was 35, I rode in a show in 106 degree weather, and kept my wool huntcoat on (and won a few classes, thankyouverymuch).
Fuck that. I'm 39, not 13 or 16 or even 35, and I want to enjoy riding my horse without having to wring out my bra later.
So, yeah, I won't be riding Wednesday. Weekend looks good, though.