A1A South

I watched a video on YouTube this weekend about swinging up on your horse.  I dimly remember being able to vault onto the horse with some semblance of grace some 20 to 30 years and 50 lbs. ago. 

As I was explaining to a friend this morning, it seemed like a good idea at the time to go out there and spring on the hell bitch mare’s back, even though no alcohol was involved. 

“Well, did it work?” she said, incredulously.

“Well, half way.  I got my heel up over her back, but she had that sparse Appaloosa mane and no saddle, so I really didn’t have anything to grip and so utilize my upper body.”

“So then what?”

“I just slid down off the mare, while she turned around and looked at me like I’d gone slap outta my mind.  It was only when I’d gotten off that I realized had I gotten my heel over her back a little farther, the only way I’d have dismounted would have been on top of my head on the concrete, particularly if she’d decided to jump away from me.  Can you imagine the reaction of the coroner doing an autopsy to find the cause of death, and the police taking SwampMan into custody because there’s no way I could have accidentally tripped and fallen on top of my skull?”

“So, basically you want me to go testify on SwampMan’s behalf in case you fall on top of your head and die the next time you try it, right?”

“Right!”

I think the grandkids would think it was way cool that MeeMaw could leap onto the back of the hell bitch mare and ride off into the sunset (or be pitched about 10 feet into the air before making a spectacular fall).

What can I say, my job is going to be cut at the beginning of June, so I’ll have insurance coverage until then.  Might as well get some use out of it!