Ride On?

 

Shadow LSP

Perhaps it's time to get back on the horse. I mean to say, there you are at the dear old Tolly in Calcutta and decide to go for a morning ride. So put on those burnished field boots, stroll over to the stables, swing into the saddle and... make a complete fool of yourself because you haven't actually ridden in a few years, four, to be precise.

The Tolly, I Think It's Time to Visit

All wrong. No, none of that. Instead you mount up and ride on into the dawn of a new Bengal day, moving from walk, to trot, to canter, to gallop, all seamlessly and in union with the horse itself. Man and beast at one. OK, so you have a warm up in the arena first to get to know the horse, but that's all good and your Syce suspends his inclination to scorn a new rider. Ride over, you fall back to the veranda for refreshments, the day is young.

Now you see where I'm going with this. If you want to go on a tour of the Clubs of the Old Raj, you'd better be able to ride. That in mind, the Lenten fast is moving me to call up the Senior Warden and ask, "I say, J, d'ye know someone who can sort me out for remedial lessons, English style?"

Me a Few Year's Back at J's Arena With The Youngest 

She'll say yes and we can go from there, maybe to a half lease, and even if the Tolly plan, magnificent in scope, doesn't work out it's still way better than a gym membership. So let's see how this equestrian plan pans out. In the meanwhile, here's J in the day:

Just Outstanding

What an athlete! Her husband was too, RIP, a world champ Bronc Rider and MC/Treasurer at Mission #2 to boot. But rodeo aside, I feel that it'd be good to get in the saddle again and actually learn the discipline. Or something like that.

Cheers,

LSP

Princess Louise of Prussia

 

You may not like it, all ye Libs, but Princess Louise of Prussia was equally at home at court or as Hon. Col. of the Death's Head Hussars. Here, look at this:

The troops love her, understandably.

Because she lifts everyone's spirits, a force multiplier. She was the only daughter and the last child of German Emperor Wilhelm II and Augusta Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, and a great-granddaughter of Queen Victoria through her father. Born in 1892, she died in 1980.

Some say, foolishly, that women shouldn't be allowed into the martial profession. That's clearly an error, see above. Others argue that Melania should be and in fact is Hon. Col. of the DLC (Dallas Light Cavalry). Prestigious unit, what?

Ride on,

LSP

Horsing Around

 

I know, you've forgotten more about riding than I'll ever know, and I remember telling two rodeo stars about the Thoroughbred Grey I was training, with help.

me and the youngest

They looked at me blankly, in a nonplussed wtf are you kind of way and I replied, "Hey, just having fun with a horse." They lightened at that, "What it's all about, man." 

Three screws in the hip and a cautionary tale later I'm more cautious and haven't ridden since; maybe that needs to change? But here's the thing, I'm not inclined to get on a half-broke horse anymore, much less a mad Arab. Is that wrong?

Ride on,

LSP

Ride On

 

Look at this fool, a couple of years back. Well it's all fun and games till you break your femur. But I tell you, it's a great thing to go fast on a horse. I know, many of you have forgotten more about riding than I'll ever know, but we're not scoring points here, just having fun.

Ride On,

LSP

PARIS

 

A pal's in Paris, France, running some kind of gig or "show" for Chanel. That means, as I understand it, being driven around in a limo to all these Parisienne places. Hey, rock on, and moar power to you but the question is, will you meet Coco?

Possibly. Look out for pearls, lots of them, and don't even consider uttering no for an answer. In the meanwhile we continue stalwart, indomitable, here in our Texan Compound. And that's no small thing.

What can we say?  Excelsior! 

Buy the dip,

LSP

White Lives Matter?

Maybe you disagree, maybe you think they don't. That's up to you, but note, the failed Wakandaist state of Zimbabwe's offering $3.5 billion it doesn't have to coax white farmers back. Good luck with that cash incentive.

Ride On

Utter scorn to the UK's commie leadership for selling that country down the river. So-called "Lord" Carrington, you're a complete, unmitigated, traitorous disgrace. Now watch, you corrupt, Marxist African fools, while the Chinese own and rape you.

In the meanwhile, the US has a decision to make.

AFRICOM,

LSP

Poor Baby!

I wasn't going to say Mass at Mission #2 two Sundays ago because a Mad Arab threw me off her back, resulting in three massive screws to the upper femur. So I called the MC and asked if he'd sorted out a supply priest. The conversation went like this.

"Hey, d'ye have a supply priest sorted out for Sunday?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was figuring you'd do it."

"How, I've got three enormous screws in my leg."

"Poor baby!"

This left me with one choice and one only. Get up. Get in the rig. Say the Mass. Good thing the recruit's on hand to drive, and by the way, the MC in question has a history of falling off horses.

Ride on,

LSP

The Rise And Fall Of LSP Pt. I - The Horses

It seemed like a good idea to go riding on Friday, so that's what we did. Drove over to Waco, saddled up a couple of half-wild Arabs and went out in the round pen for a warm up.  There you have it, the rise of LSP.

All went well, so we went out in the pasture and stepped it up a bit. Fine, except that the horses weren't used to doing anything outside of a walk/trot in the round pen.

Looks Normal is Crazy

Well I didn't care and urged the uncollected, nervous, rebellious Arab forward and, when she started tossing her head and trying to get back to the barn, I turned her in a tight circle away from temptation. She hated that and went full retard horse spastic at the top of the circle and popped me off. Sic transit, the fall of LSP.

I hit the ground on my hip like a bergan full of wet charcoal landing on concrete, then got up and took stock. Could I walk? No, the old left leg was as mutinous as the horse herself. So I stood there, catching my breath.

Good Arab

The Recruit caught up soon enough, led his better behaved beast back to the barn and brought the truck around with BE. They levered me into the cab and drove to the nearest walk-in ER, which took an X Ray.

Oh dear, the upper femur was fractured below the ball joint joining the bone to the pelvis, a nasty injury, especially if an unstable bone slices through an artery and you bleed out. That hadn't happened, thank God.

Recruit Wearing a Helmet Riding an Arab

Next thing you know a busted up horseman's in an ambulance heading towards Waco central and surgery.

Moral? Never Trust An Arab or You Don't Bounce Like You Used To.

To be continued...

LSP

Rodeo

Just when you were wondering what to do on a rainy Thursday evening in the waterworld that is rural Texas, a kind friend came to the rescue with tickets to the RAM Texas Circuit Finals Rodeo in Waco. So off we went.

The Coliseum was pretty much empty, probably on account of everyone staying home to protect their flooded compounds from looters. But that didn't detract from the event, far from it. Bronc, roping, barrels, bull riding and more, big fun.

What's best? Hard to say but perhaps barrel riding comes out on top for me; it's great to watch the girls fly around the arena. Fast action, outstanding riding. Then again, saddle bronc's high adrenaline too, right out of the chute.

And what's wrong with bull riding? Nothing, unless you get kicked and gored by a ferocious bull. Most definitely a job for the young and insanely fearless. But it's all good.

Junior LSP, it was his first rodeo, had a blast, "Dad, now I want to go riding." I feel the same and maybe we'll do that tomorrow if dry land emerges from the waters of the flood.

Ride on,

LSP

Dallas Light Cav Rides Against the Turk

Hmmmm, it's the Australians, but you get the drift. Speaking of which, I love running horses, total exhilaration. But imagine doing that in the face machine guns, canon and all the rest.

Over to you, RHSM Ragnar.

Charge!

LSP

Ride

A churchman asked me to bless his small herd of horses this evening, 6 Arabians, a Warmblood and a Mustang. So off I went and so did a lot of people from one of the missions, perhaps they were wondering if their padre could ride.

Shala. Note Well Put Together Barn

Good question! Fortunately I could and rode out on Shala alongside two outstanding competitive horsewomen who've forgotten more than I'll ever know about the sport.

You Ride Better Than What I Do

Still, I held my own and the congregation watching from the sidelines got a kick out of the thing. Great fun.

My Friend's Tack Room

Ride over, I blessed the herd and we all fell back to the ranch house for a delicious meal. What a lot of fun and it reminded me of several things.

One I Took Earlier

Firstly, ride more, a lot more, it's important. Secondly, bring the congregation together for fun, fellowship and worship outside of the usual Sunday morning slot. It builds the communion which is established at the Altar. 

Common sense I know, but perhaps it needs stating, especially in a mission setting. With that in mind, sermon over.

Ride On,

LSP

Black Cavalry

There I was in the front office, some call it a porch, when a troop of cavalry trotted by. Black cavalry, a stirring sight.

There were a few outliers, some ambled along at a walk.

Others at something like an extended trot.

And others again at a bareback hand gallop.

I like everything about this and file it under "country life in Texas."

Ride on,

LSP

Riding With LSP

Do you, so-called LSP, remember how to ride? To find out I went to the Heart ranch and made friends with Trace, again. And I tell you this.

Riding is good for mind, body and spirit and, in the bucolic Mesquite groves of Olde Texas, especially awesome.

Beat the Jihad.

Ride on,

LSP

The Road To Emmaus

If you haven't been too busy reading the excellent Malochio of Bodie, you may have noticed that today's Gospel was the Road to Emmaus. Here we find the risen Christ progressively revealing Himself to Cleopas and his companion as they walk away from the heavenly city, Jerusalem. 

He does so through Word and Sacrament. But note this, the turning point in the Gospel and the disciples' journey of recognition occurs when they near their destination and constrain Jesus to stay with them and eat. Then, in the confection of the Eucharist, the scales fall from the the disciples' eyes and they see Christ for who He is; the Word who has expounded the word becomes Flesh.

So with us. If we're to recognize the risen Lord we have to open our hearts to Him in faith and then the guest becomes the host, serving us the word of of truth and salvation and the bread of everlasting life.

To be fair, I didn't do this remarkably powerful Gospel justice but the people seemed to like the message.

"Good sermon, padre," said one cowboy as we sat in his ranch office after Mass. "Thanks, chief, I appreciate it," I replied, looking at an old saddle that was stood up next to a holstered 30-30. "That's a relay saddle," explained my friend, whose father had ridden the rails from Montana to Texas in the '30s to cowboy. Then, as we left the HQ, he pointed out another saddle with hooded stirrups, or Tapederos. 

I picked up handful of scarred leather, "The guy I ride with out of Aquilla uses these."

"Makes sense when you're moving through mesquite and brush."

"Right, like chaps," I observed, thoughtfully, "Not to be confused with the kind of chaps you might find in, say, Oak Lawn, Dallas."

My colleague, who's forgotten more horsemanship than I'll ever know, snorted, "Ain't that the truth," and we climbed into the Gator and got back on the road.

I file this edifying tale under God, Guns, Church and Country Life in Texas. And you know what, there's nothing wrong with that, at all.

Ride on,

LSP

Ride On

As we rode out this afternoon in the searing Texan sun, I reflected on last night's terrorist sniper attack on Dallas LE. Who was to blame, The Man, in the form of Dallas PD's multiracial, underpaid police force? Whoa now, easy girl! Or something else.

Like blatant, brazen lawlessness at the top level of our governance being reflected on our streets. As go the rulers, so go the ruled, with bloody consequence. And for a fact, black race anger has been stoked by the current Administration. "Do not be discouraged," said Attorney General Loretta Lynch to the organization that fueled the Dallas terror attack. 

Would any of this have happened if Black Lives Matter didn't have the support of the state? I doubt it. Inside leg steady, bend the horse 'round the girth. Good girl, ride on.

So the Government's to blame, at least in part; they've encouraged the kind of racial conflict this country hasn't seen since the '60s. But let's go a little bit deeper under the saddle. Who are the people the ruling elite are encouraging, who was really behind Thursday night's cop killing operation. Surely it wasn't the radical revolutionary Left. Sit deep in the saddle, ignore the mad Arab's attempt at mutiny!

What are the RadLeft thinking? That a wave of cop killings across the country, and there's been one, will spark a revolution, which they'll win? Really? Think again, genius brigade. And remember this. 

Pretty much everything the Left does produces the exact opposite of its intended result. Remember womyn bishops? They were going to fill the pews. Hackamore.

Ride on,

LSP

Get Back in The Saddle, Fool

It's been a little while, but I rode out on Tres this evening before Vespers. Tres is a horse of color who identifies with her biological gender as a mare. Tres is OK with people calling her "her" or "she", that's the kind of pronoun she goes by, at least for now. 

Tres also idolizes a white Stallion, called Whitey McPrivilege. Whitey feels, pretty aggressively I can tell you, that Tres belongs to him. Tres agrees and even seems to like it.

A Saddle on a Truck

I know. By now you're probably feeling a bit sick at the sheer spectacle of this heteronormative, self-imposed cisgender stereotyping. What's wrong with these horses, you're asking. Good question, and I don't know what's got into them, but I do know that Whitey McPrivilege wasn't there when we rode up on the herd.

Is Whitey Here?

They were all horses of color and Whitey wasn't there. Tres was pretty upset, no kidding, so we ran back to the safe space of the barn, fast. Maybe she'd find Whitey there, thought Tres. No, she didn't. Then we ran down to the big cow pasture. Was Whitey there? No, he wasn't. Maybe someone had shot Whitey for being a hate-filed, misogynist gender fascist. Whatever, he wan't there.

Where is Whitey?

Bereft of gender oppression, Tres posted back to the safe space, ate some grass and got turned out. So you see, readers, all six of you, everything turned out alright.

Ride on,

LSP

Herding Cats

As I was saddling up, I was attacked by a herd of cats. They launched a frontal assault on my leg, which they climbed, like furry pirates.

When they weren't doing that, they launched wave attacks on my feet. It was hard to move, I tell you, but I shook them off, got on the horse and rode out.

The horse was a bit rebellious, doubtless shook up by the cat attack, but she got over it and we galloped up several hills, took in the scenery, and then went through some woods. Real woods, mind you, not your brush, Mesquite, impenetrable thicket woods. 

By the time we got back to the barn a small herd of cows had displaced the cats and that, readers, is the story of that.

I love riding,

LSP

Ride On

I took the Team out for a ride near Waco, where the Colonel has a squadron of Arabians. They were a little tricky to catch at first but came around soon enough to the lure of feed in a bucket.

It was good to be back in the saddle again and the kids had a fine time galloping about. I took the youngest on a short trail ride through some woods on the acreage, where we saw a snake eat a mouse.

In the meanwhile, the eldest charged about and managed to jump over a pile of brush. Stay on the horse, I thought, and sure enough he did.

After a couple of hours we took the horses back to the barn and hosed them down. They liked that, and no wonder, it was pushing 109 degrees. 

Great fun and big thanks to Mr. and Mrs. E. I've resolved to ride more often, good for mind, body and spirit.

Your Beacon of Tolerance,

LSP