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I Need a New Hobby
23/12/14 09:31... no, not really. I need to prune my hobbies, actually.
The most important hobby I need to prune is falling down. Which I did, spectacularly, but to no ill effect, yesterday. See, I took the dog for an epic drag. Since her back is ailing, it's no longer a matter of taking her to the park and letting her leap for fly balls for an hour. So we walk somewhere, then walk back, frequently up and down hills, of which our neighborhood has a gracious plenty. Yesterday I let Em choose where we were walking, which was fine. We went to Glen Canyon Park, a pretty wilderness near our house which is, as the name implies, a canyon. As in some parts are very high and others rather low. What I had not thought of, when I left the house, was that I was wearing my sandals--my most comfortable shoes, but not indicated for hill climbing. And yet somehow I found myself on one of the high trails, looking down a very steep hill at the normal people who were walking the more standard path. And thinking, Jeez, I don't want to fall up here. I became very concerned with keeping my footing, as it was rocky and muddy and determined to make me slide around.
The path won. I took a spectacular double-somersault header straight down the hill--but I managed to respond by NOT putting my hands out to stop me (we know where that led last time) but to roll on my forearm as I was taught in stage combat, and to dig in my heels so that two flips was all I did. My glasses went flying, but bless them, their frames are red, so I found them. Emily came trotting back to sniff and commiserate and comment that falling down was a silly thing to do and not recommended by dogs, thank you.
So I took off my sandals and picked my way very carefully down the hill to the standard path, and then home. I have a slight scrape on one hand, and a few "you did what?" ouchies, but am otherwise fine. But really, I don't need this hobby.
The most important hobby I need to prune is falling down. Which I did, spectacularly, but to no ill effect, yesterday. See, I took the dog for an epic drag. Since her back is ailing, it's no longer a matter of taking her to the park and letting her leap for fly balls for an hour. So we walk somewhere, then walk back, frequently up and down hills, of which our neighborhood has a gracious plenty. Yesterday I let Em choose where we were walking, which was fine. We went to Glen Canyon Park, a pretty wilderness near our house which is, as the name implies, a canyon. As in some parts are very high and others rather low. What I had not thought of, when I left the house, was that I was wearing my sandals--my most comfortable shoes, but not indicated for hill climbing. And yet somehow I found myself on one of the high trails, looking down a very steep hill at the normal people who were walking the more standard path. And thinking, Jeez, I don't want to fall up here. I became very concerned with keeping my footing, as it was rocky and muddy and determined to make me slide around.
The path won. I took a spectacular double-somersault header straight down the hill--but I managed to respond by NOT putting my hands out to stop me (we know where that led last time) but to roll on my forearm as I was taught in stage combat, and to dig in my heels so that two flips was all I did. My glasses went flying, but bless them, their frames are red, so I found them. Emily came trotting back to sniff and commiserate and comment that falling down was a silly thing to do and not recommended by dogs, thank you.
So I took off my sandals and picked my way very carefully down the hill to the standard path, and then home. I have a slight scrape on one hand, and a few "you did what?" ouchies, but am otherwise fine. But really, I don't need this hobby.