quietann

I wish my brother didn't live in Alaska. We just had a very nice phone conversation, and he, having experienced all sorts of athletic injuries, read me the riot act, in a very sweet way, about not pushing myself right now. He's skeptical of the riding, or rather, not the riding, but the amount of time on the ground to get the horse ready, take it to the ring, etc. Will do what I can, and no more.

(My brother, if you don't already know, is an "all-around" athlete. He's hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, climbed a 20K plus peak in Bolivia, skis (both cross country and downhill, including back-country downhill, where one treks up to the top of some steep slope and skis down), bicycled across the US, won marathons, and once more or less carried a friend who'd had a stroke in the Alaska back country ten miles to the nearest landing strip.)

Cider Hill Farms email newsletter has 20 varieties of apples listed as being picked now, including some really unusual ones. But one has to go out to the orchard and pick the rare ones; they are not in the store. There is NO way I can do that right now. Actually at the moment I can only walk in a straight line, and slowly at that. Yes, I should go to the doctor... 4 blocks away and I just can't imagine it.

By the way, the La Jolla Landslide is about a mile from where I grew up and I used to ride my bike on the street that collapsed all the time when I was a kid. Actually, my dad would drop me off at the top of Soledad Mountain on his way back to work after lunch, and I'd ride all the way down. The houses on the lower streets (Palomino and Desert View) should never have been built...

And... went to get lunch. Two slices of pizza, OK. But I did not realize it had both carmelized onions and red pepper on it, neither of which I can stand. So back downstairs, slowly, and I now have a salad, hardboiled eggs, and rolls.