Being retired, I am able to luxuriate in a lot of imaginative thinking. Today as I watched just barely two minutes of Grand Prix equestrian jumping, I imagined myself in the saddle. I was GOOD! In fact, I was so good I won, beating out Austria - a perennial super-power...equestrianly speaking, and Spain - who takes great pride in all things horsey. In my post-competition interview I wasn't in the least self-conscious about my thickly Ukrainian-accented English. (At least I can speak a foreign language.)
My imaginings should have ended there, but they didn't. In transitioning from the family room to the kitchen, I observed both kitties making a bee line to their respective food bowls. Well, that's not entirely true. What I "saw" were two show cats jumping. Poor Scout, with dainty little paws that bear several more pounds of concentrated weight than they're designed for, put in a poor performance, while Sonny, with concentrated power in his magnificent hind quarters, was poetry in motion.
I want to ride a horse. The Kentucky Derby is less than a month away.
