No Foalin’

May 3, 2017 3:50pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 18 Comments

Horse Riding

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!


Steady on with the excitement because I can tell you right now I‘m about as whimsical as a dead Duracell bunny.

But, talking of horsey commands…

Just let your feet go clipetty clop

I stayed on my horse and survived. Obviously, since I’m writing here and now. But, you’ll be glad to know it’s not from a wheelchair, though my ability to walk has been severely hampered.


Riding a horse is like doing squats for an hour on a moving object. Going to the gym is easy work by comparison. Apparently, you can’t just sit on a bobo and lose yourself to the wonders of the wilderness. You are required to work. Hard. You can see why cars were invented.

There I sat, straddled across “Marge” the dapple grey in a field full of children. Kids who were cantering and galloping around without an ounce of fear.

“Yeah, but you can’t make a knockout, Spaghetti Bolognese, can ya, kiddo?” I said to the girl holding onto Marge because she was being stubborn. Naturally, since it’s my horse it didn’t want to behave.

I couldn’t possibly show myself up in front of children as an adult and moral guidance to future pioneers, so, I went up and down in that saddle until I went numb with pain.

Filly girl

That wasn’t all. I steered through cones, walked alongside a plank in an awfully bad straight line and learnt to trot all in lesson one. Not only that, in the second hour, I went on what is known as a “Hack” AKA Trotting through the woods where mad people walk their pitbull terriers and tired, screaming toddlers. Horses just love that.

Did you know that you must lean back when going down hill cos you might fall over the horses head if you don’t? And, you have to stand up in your stirrups (despite insane thigh cramping) when your horse goes for a wee.

Mounting mare

I don’t believe I have ever been so ungainly in all my life. The first time I got on the horse I nearly went straight over the other side and landed on my head.
Getting off was even worse.
“Take both feet out of the stirrups, Jules”
“Both? Don’t I use my left one for ballast?”
“And what if the horse runs off with your foot still caught in the stirrup as you’re getting off, Jules? Then what?”

Nag, nag, nag… sheesh.

I basically fell off. I have seen sacks of coal delivered more elegantly.
I will, however, master the art of being one with a horse if it kills me. Though I’m hoping it doesn’t. At least over here I get a hard hat, which let me tell you, someone like me needs.

Talking of headaches…

Video star

I am currently trying to record myself for some work I’m doing. This involves talking over a video presentation like a boss.


27 attempts at the moment and still no recording.

Do you know how hard it is to read without sounding like you’re reading? Can someone explain to me why just at the point of recording I develop a speech impediment?
And, is it OK to have homicidal feelings toward the Amazon delivery man when he knocks on your front door with a parcel mid-recording? Or visitors that knock on your window to get your attention when they can see what you’re doing? Is it wrong of me to kick an inanimate object like the washing machine when it goes into turbo spin mania? Or throw rocks over the wall at the garden centre next door when they have a skip delivered that shakes my house to its foundations mid-recording? Or curse Siri on my phone when he randomly asks how he can help me OUT LOUD for no apparent reason?

So help me God.

Next week I shall be reporting from sunnier climes and may be in a more convivial mood.


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My advice on horse riding would be to always keep half an eye out for somewhere soft to land when you fall off. It hurts the first time, but after that I got really good at falling off without hurting myself!

Rick, I think I might invest in some sort of body armour. Apparently, there are now inflatable vests. This is very useful for water skiing too. 🙂
Thanks for the Jaffa cakes!

Leaning back while riding downhill…Um Yeah, learned that the hard way. Hopefully you’ll never know the joy of being kicked after spending the morning shoeing a few mares. Black & Blue on my arse for a month! ? ? x
– TC

Ha! I’m surprised I didn’t do the same, especially when Marge found nice grass she wanted to eat.

You’re not inspiring me to continue, TC! It’s looking like padded jodhpurs as well then! 🙂 x

Hopefully you’re inspired to steer clear of the business end of the horse!
Meantime; two important rules of “Equestrian Etiquette”:
Mind where you’re steppin’ & Always be know the location of the saddlehorn!

Good advice, TC! Though in England they don’t have saddlehorns. I was quite astonished at the difference in saddles between here and America. Ours are basically a flatter and thinner with bugger all to hold onto. They say it gives you more control of the horse but I say you’re more likely to come a cropper. In America, your saddles are like armchairs – makes sense to me! 🙂

I hope you go back again, Jules, it sounds such fun from this side! Good luck with the videos, you may be better off trying to record in the dead of night.

Oh, I shall go back, Jane. When I can walk again…

Believe it or not, I have actually done recording in the dead of night! 🙂

Horses is for courses.

Anyway, why saddle yourself (pun intended) with a dobbin, when you have that bloody great Range Rover to gad about in?
Far more comfy, I’m sure.

Very good point, Masher! This is why we have cars, right? 10/10 for comfort and 300 fold on the horsepower! 🙂

Walk, trot, canter, gallop, RUN! Big fun, keeps you fit, too. Always best to stay on, though.

Trot, bounce, fall, ache.
Fit to drop, yes.
This is key, LSP. Staying on! 🙂

Ha. Foalin’. I see what you did there, clever little minx. And a convivial mood sounds like a downgrade to me. I like it feisty. Texas again?

I aim to please, M.

Well, I’m starting in Texas then off to Colorado because the mountains are nice. Then I’m considering Portland Oregan or Seattle and Vancouver. I’m just gonna take off somewhere when the mood suits.

Don’t worry, I’m never convivial for long. 🙂

I never realised horse-riding was so strenuous, Jules. On the bright side, you’ll have thighs like nutcrackers when you’ve completed the programme.

It doesn’t sound like you’re reading if you learn the lines by heart, Jules. That’s an old trick they still teach at drama school. 🙂 Another approach is to forget your lines and improvise.

Neither did I, Mr. Gorilla Bananas. But will I get a long face?

I’m starting to improvise but then I go completely off piste. I have to have boundaries!

I love this post, cos it’s bracing me for Saturday, reigning in my excitement.

Spaghetti Bolognese, now that’s the name of a Kentucky Derby winner! a horse can only be called Marge if it’s blue…

I don’t like cars. unless they’re flying cars.

the Duracell bunny’s secret? drugs

my inner thighs are always burning.

the only thing trending on my youtube are local community meetings on water. the key to acting is not to act, to prepare intensely to be natural. Amazon drones drop visitors off at my house. I pay for friends at the visitors tell me anything else is extra. record in the basement…of a nuclear shelter. robots will take over the world…with their love and concern.


I wish there was a horse called Spaghetti Bolognese. I’d eat that ticket. Got winner written all over it. He’d be at the finish line in 12 minutes. ..

My car can fly. I can prove it with all the points I’ve won.

The Duracell secret is Hell Dust.

I’m naturally hammy. I think stuttering stumbles will endear me to my audience. *)

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