The first thought in my head this morning was “ahhh…. it’s my birthday” as the light electronic Jazz music melody went off from my cell phone. Dreams of being woken up slowly with soft kisses began to vanish when I realized in fact it was not my birthday & i was alone in my bed.
My backside aches from my newest accomplishment: learning how to canter with my horse, who coincidentally was named just like my childhood best friend: Grace. As I have learned, to canter is more than a trot and less than a gallop. Three footfalls per stride as opposed to the four of the gallop, more of a wooshy feeling than the clippity-clop of the trot trot. It is only when I begun to canter that I became too aware that this beast below me could crush me if we fell.
I still can’t get over the fact that i’m a born Texan who is learning to ride properly at the age of 26 in the Middle East.
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