Last year Horse Nation had a post of Tack Rooms That Are Nicer Than Your House.

There is very little likelihood my tack room is ever going to be featured beside such magnificence. This is what I had when we moved in:

Look at the amazing woodwork!

Despite the craftsmanship that went into the design pictured above, it just wasn’t my taste. Off to the big box hardware store I went, on a mission to find a paint color that wouldn’t show dust too easily. I came home with a gallon of peachy-beige paint and then had to go buy another. Shockingly, dry plywood drinks up paint like I do mochas.

That’s better. Even if the nostalgic trunks from my cow showing days don’t match the decor.

The above picture is from right before the horses came. It has never been that empty again. As you all know, horse lovers also love stuff for their horses, and it has accumulated. Over the intervening years, a trunk has been added and various shelves. This is it last winter:

The answer is always more shelving. Or trunks.

I swear it’s never like this! Okay, I lie. It’s like this a lot. How could this ever become the tack room of my dreams?

Then it occurred to me: There’s no reason my little closet couldn’t have a chandelier. Voila!

Shiny! And, it actually makes more light than the old fixture.

There has been much amusement created by my chandelier. I really wanted something with even more crystal, but that would have been a bit silly. Plus, this one was unwieldy as it is; I couldn’t imagine dealing with a larger one.

Many people had to let me know how much I would hate dusting it. The answer to that is I simply don’t. I live in a dusty place: it’s unavoidable ,and a dust layer on the chandelier is not out of place with the dust everywhere decor. And that peachy-beige paint? Totally doesn’t show the dust. I also put up various hooks and shelf things in an attempt to keep bottles, brushes and halters off the floor so I could actually walk on it.

Looking in the door to the left

Pretty good results.

Looking in the door to the right

I think I need to add wainscoting next.

The author and Dragonlady Anne, aka Banana, attacking a ferocious telephone pole at Las Cruces Horse Trial. The author admits that, even to her, this jump is tiny. Photo used with permission, courtesy of Cristy Cumberworth.

My friends are off to the AECs and here I am at home, on the couch with dogs, cats and computer, my mare visible out the window, grazing. One of my dreams is to compete at the AECs because, let’s face it, at creeping up towards 40, my physical prowess is not anything that will qualify me for any other sort of championship.

I looked towards competitive eating, but my dogs or the mini horse would be much more proficient at it than I. But, someday I could go to the AECs. It is an achievable goal. There’s one little problem though: There’s no national championship at Pre-Comp.

Pre-Comp is an Area X division, jumps max of 2 feet. In the four years I have been eventing, other than a brief foray at Beginner Novice, I have been nestled in the womb of Pre-Comp. I have dealt with the disdain of others over my happy place and assume it would continue tenfold if it were to be included at the AECs.

So often it’s said that the lower levels are the cause of the watering down of eventing. I prefer to think that its inclusion would not add to the watering down, but the boozing up, as those that would actually go to a national championship at this height are scared sh*tless adults who could use a little liquid encouragement.

Pre-Comp on the left, BN on the right at St. Johns H.T. Not a lot of height difference, but a huge difference in amounts of panic.

It wouldn’t even be difficult to build a cross-country course for. Just find some old telephone poles and put them on the ground in a couple of places. If the course designer is feeling daring, real logs of various shapes and sizes can really up the difficulty. If they’d like to bring it up to heart attack levels, a 2-foot coop would do it, or even more so, a 2-foot rolltop.

I know, some of you are laughing, and I agree it’s quite amusing. But really, you would not believe the way my heart starts a marathon if I view a 2-foot coop. And that’s why I ride at the level I do. Two-foot jumps are scary enough for me, thank you very much. Yes, I do hope to ride BN again some day, but I’m really quite happy down here with my people: the scared and the new.

I’ll cheer all the rest of the eventing family on as you jump things that are so tall I’m not even scared of them as there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be jumping them. All I ask is that you remember we’re part of the eventing family too and not think of us as a joke. For some of us, Pre-Comp and its sisters in the low, low, low unrecognized levels are the only way we can be eventers.

And we want to be eventers, even if we are quaking in fear at a 2-foot oxer or carrying around a bucket to catch the impending vomit. Do I really think Pre-Comp should be at the AECs? No, not really. But it sure would be nice.