Every other week I have four days off from the crazy non-profit world. And every other week Cole and I struggle to come up with plans to make the most of it. On Sunday, we took my mother in law up on an invitation to ride horses in the Santa Monica Mountains. Now my experiences with horses are very limited and from what I remember from camp at seven years of age; horses and me don't mix. But being a good sport I agreed to see if my taste buds had grown any in the past decade. Lesson learned. Come Monday I woke up feeling I needed a blown up donut to help alleviate the pain my bruised backside was in every time I attempted to sit. Now understand, I love the Santa Monica Mountains and as long as Tonto didn't pick up any speed or try to gallop, which subsequently sends me into an out of control up and down movement, life is just peachy. But of course I lack any skill in controlling the behaviors of large animals and my wishes were cast to the wayside leaving me hanging on for dear life and praying that someone would stop the ride so I could get off. So here I am: Tuesday, still suffering from my lack of cushioning in the rear and Tonto's gallop's.
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