This looks like a useful tool. I could lose my productivity by checking out all of these productivity tools!
Feature: Get Things Done Over the Phone with Jott
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Uneven Playing Field - Girls' Sports Injuries - Michael Sokolove - New York Times
This is stepping into taboo territory, but it is quite well-researched and ought to be read by anyone with daughters who are athletes.
The Uneven Playing Field - Girls' Sports Injuries - Michael Sokolove - New York Times
The Uneven Playing Field - Girls' Sports Injuries - Michael Sokolove - New York Times
Sunday, May 11, 2008
What happened to Sara's Law?
Some background about the tragic situation:
The failed attempt to pass the proposed "Sara's Law" through the California public safety committee
http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_9028369They ought to be renamed "do whatever the ACLU wants at the expense of public safety committee":
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Eight Belles story is getting me sad
I didn't see the race. I don't drop everything for the Kentucky Derby. I wasn't even ever involved in thoroughbred racing. The background that I do have with horses brings me closer to these animals than an ordinary spectator.
Until my life in Northern California, I had been with horses regularly since I was 5. That means around 20 years. Riding, driving, grooming, you name it. I competed for fun with not too much money involved. I rode for the thrill of understanding the animal I had become. Balancing the horse. Using (but never abusing) the bit. All these things are a natural part of my being now.
My parents were careful (or lucky) to never have us with a cookie cutter coach. The cookie cutter coaches were the ones that had you ride a beaten down horse. They would braid the center of the mane with a different colored braid than the rest and tell you to get off the saddle and put your hands on those braids and just do that at the right time and let the horse do the rest. The rider's job was to look pretty and follow these rules and everything would be fine. A horse that had some brains was deemed incorrigible or unusable.
My trainers had me ride many different animals, each one with his/her own needs. I was taught to ride stirrupless, sometimes bareback. I was taught to strengthen my muscles so that I could guide a horse with a small, precise, movement of my leg--so my balance change would calm the horse or signal to the horse "let's go for it." My last trainer was a wonderful lady named Adrienne. She was the type of person who doesn't come across well in social situations. She was kind of abrasive and lots of people couldn't stand her. In the ring, with horses and riders who would really listen, she was unbelievable. She had a ladies' group of mostly moms who could get a little time off and ride together late at night. It was scheduled for an hour. She was generous with her time and would often keep me for 2 or more hours so I could leave on a high note. I had a background she could really work with. She had me ride horses in a way that got them to glide around the ring when working flat and had them well-balanced and gave them heart for jumping. She asked me to compete as an adult amateur and in two shows I was a ranked rider. This had never happened for me in the past because my social status is nowhere near the stratosphere that seems to be required in the more political hunter/jumper categories. The judges could not deny me this. Or, maybe, California shows are less political than the Long Island shows I had previously entered. Before I met Adrienne, I had gotten to the point that I only wanted to compete in competitive jumping because the method of scoring is apolitical and me, a nobody, could do well.
Until my life in Northern California, I had been with horses regularly since I was 5. That means around 20 years. Riding, driving, grooming, you name it. I competed for fun with not too much money involved. I rode for the thrill of understanding the animal I had become. Balancing the horse. Using (but never abusing) the bit. All these things are a natural part of my being now.
My parents were careful (or lucky) to never have us with a cookie cutter coach. The cookie cutter coaches were the ones that had you ride a beaten down horse. They would braid the center of the mane with a different colored braid than the rest and tell you to get off the saddle and put your hands on those braids and just do that at the right time and let the horse do the rest. The rider's job was to look pretty and follow these rules and everything would be fine. A horse that had some brains was deemed incorrigible or unusable.
My trainers had me ride many different animals, each one with his/her own needs. I was taught to ride stirrupless, sometimes bareback. I was taught to strengthen my muscles so that I could guide a horse with a small, precise, movement of my leg--so my balance change would calm the horse or signal to the horse "let's go for it." My last trainer was a wonderful lady named Adrienne. She was the type of person who doesn't come across well in social situations. She was kind of abrasive and lots of people couldn't stand her. In the ring, with horses and riders who would really listen, she was unbelievable. She had a ladies' group of mostly moms who could get a little time off and ride together late at night. It was scheduled for an hour. She was generous with her time and would often keep me for 2 or more hours so I could leave on a high note. I had a background she could really work with. She had me ride horses in a way that got them to glide around the ring when working flat and had them well-balanced and gave them heart for jumping. She asked me to compete as an adult amateur and in two shows I was a ranked rider. This had never happened for me in the past because my social status is nowhere near the stratosphere that seems to be required in the more political hunter/jumper categories. The judges could not deny me this. Or, maybe, California shows are less political than the Long Island shows I had previously entered. Before I met Adrienne, I had gotten to the point that I only wanted to compete in competitive jumping because the method of scoring is apolitical and me, a nobody, could do well.
Anyhow, this has gone too far and I will talk more about this and why I don't ride now (maybe I should). A little background information into how/why I feel closer to horses than many people has become a bit of a diatribe.
Adrienne's stable was right near Santa Anita racetrack in Southern California. Many of the animals I rode were thoroughbreds who didn't make it on the race track. They were beautiful. They were smart. They were sound and strong.
For a horse to run so hard that she almost beats all of those colts at the Kentucky Derby and doesn't notice the bones breaking in her legs takes all heart. Here was a beautiful animal that only wanted to go fast.
(I personally believe that there is not only a genetic component that must be dealt with soon, but also we have to rethink the timing of the training of these horses. They are being pushed while they are still developing. This will take time, but they should really wait a few years to run these horses hard.)
Friday, May 2, 2008
Met with the contractor today. I have to decide in two days about the plumbing layout in the kitchen. Of course, I am overanalyzing and second-guessing myself and getting nowhere. I need help and don't know if I should go to the original designer who helped me with the layout or the new designer who might be more capable at choosing the overall look and feel of the house. Due in two days. Ugh!
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