hunterseat df: Hunter Seat Equitation is a division that is judged on the ability and the style of the rider. The riders can be judged both over fences and on the flat.
Although true, hunters DO eat, at least the skilled ones do, my name derives from the world of horses.
And because the word hunter is in my name, people automatically think I'm a guy. Not even close.
Whenever I meet someone named Hunter I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "That's my name, too!"
Although true, hunters DO eat, at least the skilled ones do, my name derives from the world of horses.
And because the word hunter is in my name, people automatically think I'm a guy. Not even close.
Whenever I meet someone named Hunter I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "That's my name, too!"
Don't even say it.
Posted 03-14-2015 at 08:42 AM by hunterseat
There are circumstances when it's better to not say something to get your point across. That is, the omission of facts brings the desired results.
Better yet: use the KISS principle. Keep It Simple, Silly! (Trying to be kind here.
)
I first learned this as the parent of a small boy. Do not hand him a glass of anything and say "Don't spill it". Did I think he would intentionally try to spill it? No, he was pretty anal about pleasing me at that age. By saying "Don't spill it" I put the idea of spilling into his head and, by sheer frustration, he would spill it. Why did I even say it?
Another example along those lines: Vaccinations. Chances are the kid has taken a shot in the past. You can tell him to be brave. You can tell him it will be over in a minute. But the second you tell him "It won't hurt" there it is. He knows it's going to hurt. You planted it in his brain and he's going to start anticipating, causing anxiety, causing lips to tremble and eyes to water. At that point, have a good grasp on the kid cuz he's going to try to get away!
But recently, and the reason I decided to write this, I was pushing to have my transmission fluid checked. The access is inconveniently located under the vehicle. Three mechanics declined the job and my wonderful guy, after about 3 months of hinting, agreed begrudgingly. (He's not a small guy.) So he tells me it takes a 19mm socket and he doesn't have one, all he has is an 18mm, his socket set goes to 18 and it must be a big plug if it's bigger than 18, most bolts would be 18 or smaller. blah-blah 18.... blah blah blah... 18.... blah 18 blah... "STOP!" I screamed internally and added aloud, "I'll pick one up."
After leaving the Orange Store with my new 18MM SOCKET, I climbed into my poor, possibly-low-on-tranny-fluid Isuzu, looked at the socket and smacked myself in the head (figuratively). I cannot believe he said the word EIGHTEEN to me so many times I purchased the wrong size. I dialed him up calmly and verified "It takes a 19mm, right?" His answer might as well have been "DUH". I grimly ended the call, missing the days of slamming phones down or at least clapping them closed defiantly. After going through the return line and getting the correct socket, we still couldn't get the plug off anyway. The good news is, he was able to wipe the undercarriage clean enough to see the transmission isn't leaking after all. It's the oil pan.
Today when I open Facebook, a Texas friend is complaining about her husband's hay purchase. "...I said get 10 bales, enough for 20 days. He heard get 20 bales...."
See? Don't even say it.
Better yet: use the KISS principle. Keep It Simple, Silly! (Trying to be kind here.
)I first learned this as the parent of a small boy. Do not hand him a glass of anything and say "Don't spill it". Did I think he would intentionally try to spill it? No, he was pretty anal about pleasing me at that age. By saying "Don't spill it" I put the idea of spilling into his head and, by sheer frustration, he would spill it. Why did I even say it?
Another example along those lines: Vaccinations. Chances are the kid has taken a shot in the past. You can tell him to be brave. You can tell him it will be over in a minute. But the second you tell him "It won't hurt" there it is. He knows it's going to hurt. You planted it in his brain and he's going to start anticipating, causing anxiety, causing lips to tremble and eyes to water. At that point, have a good grasp on the kid cuz he's going to try to get away!
But recently, and the reason I decided to write this, I was pushing to have my transmission fluid checked. The access is inconveniently located under the vehicle. Three mechanics declined the job and my wonderful guy, after about 3 months of hinting, agreed begrudgingly. (He's not a small guy.) So he tells me it takes a 19mm socket and he doesn't have one, all he has is an 18mm, his socket set goes to 18 and it must be a big plug if it's bigger than 18, most bolts would be 18 or smaller. blah-blah 18.... blah blah blah... 18.... blah 18 blah... "STOP!" I screamed internally and added aloud, "I'll pick one up."
After leaving the Orange Store with my new 18MM SOCKET, I climbed into my poor, possibly-low-on-tranny-fluid Isuzu, looked at the socket and smacked myself in the head (figuratively). I cannot believe he said the word EIGHTEEN to me so many times I purchased the wrong size. I dialed him up calmly and verified "It takes a 19mm, right?" His answer might as well have been "DUH". I grimly ended the call, missing the days of slamming phones down or at least clapping them closed defiantly. After going through the return line and getting the correct socket, we still couldn't get the plug off anyway. The good news is, he was able to wipe the undercarriage clean enough to see the transmission isn't leaking after all. It's the oil pan.
Today when I open Facebook, a Texas friend is complaining about her husband's hay purchase. "...I said get 10 bales, enough for 20 days. He heard get 20 bales...."
See? Don't even say it.
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