Hey CottonBear,
Small world time again. My mother grew up in Paoli and I have an aunt who still lives there! My parents were born in Comer and my dad moved back there from Atlanta years and years ago (although he's on the Oglethorpe Co. side of Comer). If you're from around there originally, I wouldn't be surprised if we turned out to be related somehow, since I think I'm related to most of Madison County, and Oglethorpe too. I do a lot of genealogical research (I'm in the DAR and it goes with the territory) and I'm continually astonished at the way family lines cross and re-cross through the generations, particularly in areas where until fairly recent times there wasn't that much new blood moving in. It fascinates me how often the same surnames pop up in the Madison/Oglethorpe/Wilkes/Clarke Co. areas.
Wouldn't it be funny if I had already met you somewhere along the way? With both of us trying to "pass" enough to fit in with the Repubs and the fundies? There needs to be some kind of secret hand signal or something so we can identify each other when we're in enemy territory. Life would be a lot simpler then.
It's very exciting to me to find another Dem in that big red hell; it's like finding a rare orchid growing among a bunch of weeds. How on earth do you survive? Athens is a fine place, but outside...scary, scary, scary. It's OK for me because I'm only there once or twice a year, but you live inside the belly of the beast.
You asked about riding. Well, I haven't been doing much lately. I don't have my own horse and have to either ride a friend's horses or go to a trekking centre (which is still nice though, lots of gorgeous moorland rides - we have some dramatic scenery here). The weather has been so bad this "summer" (I use the term with caution this year) that I haven't wanted to go out in it much. It's warm now, but a couple of days ago we had to put the heat on in the house. Yorkshire is a beautiful place, but we don't get much warm weather and it rains a lot.
I went on a two hour ride in Wales a few weeks ago and enjoyed that a lot, but it was the biggest horse I've ever ridden in my life, 18 hands high - he was
enormous and I'm only 5'3" tall. Talk about being over-horsed! He was lovely though, spirited but still really gentle and, above all,
safe.
The thing is, I'm having a bit of a riding confidence crisis because I was badly bucked off of a big, mean horse last October. We were riding in an indoor ring at a local riding centre and had just gone into canter when the horse just went nuts (I knew he was bad tempered but he had never done anything other than try to bite me repeatedly before). I flew through the air several feet - I had enough time to think about what was going to happen to me, as in "oh, this is going to be bad" - and hit the top of the plywood barrier surrounding the inside ring, did a somersault off of it (I have no memory of this, my son told me about it) and landed on my back. I hit the top edge of the barrier so hard that it sliced right through the down vest I was wearing, and I cracked three ribs.
I was out of action for a few weeks because of my ribs and shortly after I went back to riding a horse I trust, I had a non-horse related accident and broke my ankle badly in two places (slipped on a messy sidewalk while getting into the car, leg shot under the car and got stuck while the car door knocked me over sideways - I swear I could
hear it break and
boy did it ever hurt). I was in plaster up to my knee for seven weeks and my ankle still bothers me a lot, swelling up and hurting.
Has anything like this ever happened to you? If so, how did you come back from it? Before I was thrown I would get on
anything and not be scared. For example, the week before it happened I was out on an ex-racehorse I had never ridden before (that I was looking to take on permanent loan), on a trail I had never seen in a place I had never been, and I was
fine. Last summer when I was in Georgia, I was visiting my cousin in Danielsville and we took two of her quarter horses out, both mares who didn't get along with each other. We were crossing a road when the horse I was riding decided to buck and kick the other one, and again I was just fine dealing with it, although it was a bit of a kerfuffle trying to keep the horses from having a real go at each other.
But now I'm a mess. I've got to get over this, but I don't know how. Eight months ago I was starting to go over little jumps with no problem and now I'm lucky to go into trot without panicking. Like I said, a real mess. I know I'll get there eventually, but it's just so hard in the meantime. I love horses and riding too much to give it up and it's incredibly frustrating to see how much fear has affected my ability. I'm riding like a real novice nowadays. I've never had great technique (English style riding is soooo strict) but I was never scared before. That's made a
lot of difference in my riding. The least little thing that happens makes me think I'm about to part company with my mount again. Everybody falls off from time to time and I can deal with that, but it was being aggressively thrown that has shattered my confidence.
Tell me about your horse, please. Have you had her long? Did you break her yourself? Any photos you could upload? Is she spoiled? I know that if I had a horse of my own, it would probably be spoiled rotten. My dog and rabbit are pampered beyond belief, so I doubt I'd do it any differently with a horse.
BTW, I hate the term "break" as it applies to horses - I prefer to think of it as "training". Why would anyone want to
break any animal? I know it's just a word, but it has such negative connotations to me. No wonder some horses turn out twisted and mean, don't you think?
I'm slightly jealous of you going to Colbert tomorrow for the Independence Day celebration (featuring that good Christian man, Mr. Ralph Reed :evilgrin: :rofl: Gotta say, I didn't know the slimy little prick went to UGA until you mentioned it!). I would love to be there to give you a hand. If you're moving around in the crowd, my dad is about 5'6", rotund, still with black hair at the age of 72, and a face that looks more than a little like an American Indian (or do we say Native American now - I can never keep these things straight) and who always looks like he's slightly smiling (because he's a sweetie with a kind heart and he's still delighted with life, despite being a Republican with a heart condition). My stepmother looks like a 66-year old fundie woman who has eaten a load of persimmons - you know, with that pursed up, disapproving mouth. With a bad perm. Oh wait, that's most of them, isn't it?
Since July 4 is just another day in the UK, there won't be anything much to mark the occasion, although there's a demonstration going on outside the gates of the Menwith Hill military base 15 miles from where I live, featuring Scott Ritter as a speaker. I really want to go along to hear him, but I'm torn about it. Menwith Hill is officially an RAF base but everybody here knows that the NSA has a huge presence there (it's a "listening" base, like the one at Alice Springs in Australia), and it's thus a focus for protestors. Fair enough. The reason I'm torn about it is that I feel no personal animosity towards the military personnel there. Unlike the people back home with their yellow "support the troops" magnets on their SUVs, I really
do support the troops. Even though these particular troops have a safe posting in Yorkshire (think the Shire, Middle Earth, with better roads), I nevertheless hate the idea that any of our soldiers would think I was protesting about
them because nothing could be further from the truth. What to do, what to do...
One really
good thing going on here on July 4 is the first meeting of the fledgling Democrats Abroad UK chapter being set up in Leeds. I'm looking forward to getting involved.
Have a great 4th of July - I expect a full report back from you, plus some pictures of your 900 pound toddler! Any advice about my current confidence problem would be welcomed too...
Deb
Edited to ask you to scan in a copy of the flyer so I can have a look at it! Thanks.