So no, I'm not at home right now. I'm in sunny Puerto Rico, listening to the frogs chirp like birds and eating plantains. Yesterday was surfing lessons and a horseback ride through tropical forests and on the beach. We took a break in the middle of the ride to clime upp a cliffside to get an incredible view of the landscape. I decided right then and there I had to live someplace like this. Hawaii, here I come...
Anyway, a word about my horse. The owners of the trail riding company gave me one of their horses to ride, as I'd told them I used to ride competitively (which I did, many moons ago.) So they gave me Cristal (yes, named after the champagne.) I was mildly excited, thinking I'd gotten one of the best behaved horses, when in actuality I got one that refused to listen to commands, insisted on trying to canter every two seconds, and tried to buck me off at one point (having been bucked off once during training by a horse named Jinx and having had back problems ever since, I would be damned if I was going to get bucked off a horse in the middle of Puerto Rico wilderness.) Three quarters of the way through the ride, the guide says to me, "Yeah, me and all the other leads call her Crystal Meth because of her behavior." Greeeeeeeat. I realize there's a lesson in this somewhere, but I'm too blissfully zombie like from sun, sand and surf to think it through.
Today is hiking in the dry forest, followed by a golf clinic, despite efforts to switch that activity to deep sea fishing. I wonder if I'll have any aggression to get out on that tiny white ball? Guess we'll see. In the meantime, I'm late for breakfast.
