I’m in enough pain that I know I had a great weekend. I have large bruises on my calves, shins,
knee. My shoulders hurt. I found it
difficult to reach out to adjust my rear view mirror last night. My right arch is tender; there is an odd,
traveling ache in my lower back. Fade to
black: flashback…….
My riding lesson was Friday afternoon and I had that
irrational feeling of invincibility. I
won’t fall if I push my luck, I told myself.
I believed me. So, after warming
up by riding at a walk a few times around the ring, when my trainer told me to
trot, I went for it.
I clutched the posting strap for dear life and made it
half-way around the ring before calling for a walk. Then I did another
half-round. I realized I was okay. Next time, I got the entire way around. And a second time. Then the time was up. I was so proud of myself for believing
nothing bad would happen if I trotted through the fear. It was true.
After I got off the horse, I noticed there were two huge bruises on the
inside of my calves. Looks like I might
have been squeezing that poor horse to death to stay on. But Thelma didn’t mind and I love my purple-y,
greening badges of courage.
Last night we went to a wedding with the best reception I’ve
ever been to. The couple had hired an
8-piece brass band that played everything from Stevie Wonder to the Stones with
that distinctive New Orleans beat. The
amalgamation was amazing. We were up
dancing, trying to remember our best Michael Jackson moves to that NOLAfunk
version of Beat It. Dance like no one is
watching? Fat chance with a
videographer, a photographer and a hundred cell phones working constantly. We just hope we didn’t shame the hosts, but
that is really what you get when you throw a party with an open bar……
The party ended with the band strapping their drums on and
leading the guests on a second-line out the door and down Fulton Street. The
couple danced in the gazebo while the guests danced and waved handkerchiefs,
the band jammed and herds of tourists snapped away to preserve their memories
of serendipitous local cultcha.
So the shoulder, arm, back, and arch strain came from a
night of wild dancing. The extra bruises
on my knee and shin? Taking a nosedive
on the notoriously uneven pavement before the drinking began. Yes, I fell, cold stone sober, and danced the
rest of the night away. That’s the Big
Easy way.
So ache on, body. You
had a great time this weekend. Thank
you, Thelma, for not dumping my overconfident butt off your saddle and
congratulations to Cleveland and Jessica: may your marriage be a great as your
party-planning abilities!
