Sunday Morning Update

After sleeping and sleeping and sleeping, it’s time to get on with this beautiful Sunday in Killarney.  The clock reads 8:27.  I can’t even remember the last decade I slept that late in the morning. 

But upon consideration that it’s really 1:28 a.m. in North Idaho, there may be an explanation.  My body clock is confused.

My body is also pretty sore, especially my back and legs.  Those parts got a workout yesterday.  All tolled, I think we trotted or galloped our horses at least a couple of miles.  The sum total of my trotting a horse in the past several years is minute. 

Maybe a couple of times around my sisters’ arena or a the fairgrounds, but nothing very significant.  Yesterday was significant, and my body knows it. 

Those are good aches and pains though because they’re associated with an experience Annie and I will remember for a long time.  We had to work for that memory, and I believe any time work is involved, there’s more stimulation for the mind to retain concrete details.

Right now, my concrete details go from sore back and leg musles to Mikey and Alice, Monster and Legolas---the latter being our mounts yesterday and the former, our guides on a ride along the beach and through a lovely hillside village named Camp.

We got excited about its name because of our association and friendship with the Camps.   So, of course, we requested a stop near a sign in Camp to take a picture for Becca and Kelsi.

Alice, who moved to Ireland a few years ago from Slovakia, lived in Camp for a while.  She said she loved the peace and pace of the place, which is mainly some small farms with sheep in the fields.  Most of the town overlooks the Atlantic ocean, which was not extremely picturesque yesterday because of morning fog.

The azaleas, millions of daffodils, and deep green grass surrounding homes and other structures made up for the less-than inspiring ocean views.  A sense of peace certainly prevailed as we clipclopped down narrow paved roads, pulling over to the side (left side, of course) for cars to pass us.

Mikey did take the lead and stand in the main road directing traffic each time we crossed over to a side road.  Once we rode down the main route, and the cars were nice enough to slow down as they passed us. 

The trips along the beach were favorites for Annie, Mikey and Alice but not for me.  I preferred the leisurely walks up and down the village streets, looking at sheep, flowers and general pastoral beauty.  

My reluctance to want to gallop through the sand led to innovative strategies for Mikey.  His suggestion:  one equestrian rider would go with me at the trot down beach straightaways; when we'd reached the end of the straightaway, the other pair would take off at a full gallop to meet us.

This was important because Monster and Legolas are buddies who don't like to be separated.  If Annie just took off running on Monster, Marianne would go along for the "ride" on Legolas.  I wasn't at all keen on such a plan.

The strategy worked half a dozen times both ways down the beach, but at one point Legolas decided he had had enough of that trotting.  His automatic transmission smoothly shifted into "gallop," and off we went.  

I was not mentally prepared for such a thing, and my mind went through a complete shift itself when I learned that Legolas had no brakes.  If Legolas wanted to go in full gear forward, he did.  I had no say or "pull" in the matter.

I even tried the old trick of turning him in a circle to get him to slow down

That didn't work. Nothing worked except my mind, which was working up some pretty dire visions, as Alice ran alongside us, softly imploring Legolas to shift into a lower gear.

I now know the fear that my husband felt years ago when he volunteered to ride Laurie's Appaloosa Sassy home one late night after a 4-H horse show. He had only a halter rope for reins, and Sassy knew it.

She took off, full speed ahead across the fairgrounds. When she reached Boyer Road and did not stop, Bill decided to bail. He landed in the ditch, pretty darned hard, and Sassy had no sympathy. After all, by the time he landed, Sassy was halfway home.

I thought about that scene as Legolas proceeded at a full run down the Atlantic beach. "What a place to die", I thought. At least it would be softer than most spots.

Making choices has been ingrained in me through the study of Love and Logic. Well, this Love instantly decided that logic would have it that if I were to use my basic riding skills from years and years as a teenager racing with my friend Susie Baldwin down country roads, I could maybe survive this unplanned horse race.

It worked.

Alice even remarked that I looked pretty relaxed as Legolas and I galloped the rest of the way down the beach straightaway.

I'm alive to tell about it this Sunday morning here in Killarney.

And, now I need to get freshened up and dressed. I'll go thank God for my good fortune yesterday at St. Mary's Cathedral. It's about a mile away, and I'll walk through downtown to get there.

Annie has left with the car to go climb the highest mountain in Ireland. It's in the McGillicutty Reeks, and it's a pretty tricky climb.

So, if God is listening, I'll ask him to make sure Annie succeeds at the climb and makes it down safely.

More later.

Annie is posting occasionally at her www.nnlove.blogspot.com.  Click on the "Rainier Girl" link.