Call me a hopelessly romantic optimist. Despite discouraging results for twenty-seven years, I haven't given up on communicating with my husband one day. I think we had a bit of a break-through this weekend.
Mind what you ask for, you might get it!
After spending Sunday morning totally focused on getting a particular equine called "Nacho" to stop falling over his own feet every few strides and being chastised for my
tendency to drop my hands too low, which is directly related to the "Wriggly-Worm" version of straight forward movement that I was getting, and generally feeling exhilarated and refreshed at getting some of the desired improvements; albeit with a face, turned beet-red from exertion. I was in that "New-Beginnings" frame of mind when I got home.
At lunch I decided to share with Spouse how special riding is for me, and the fact that, only when I am immersed in horse-stuff do I have a mind totally free and emptied of all worries of clients, work, life etc.
"I know exactly what you mean" was the
surprising reply. First of all, he doesn't usually listen, and secondly, he usually turns the conversation immediately to whatever totally unrelated subject he really wanted to talk about, before my interruption.
"I know exactly what you mean" he said, " I get that same release from driving really fast, as if I was racing."
He continued, "I do it two or three times a week on the freeway, on the way home. It makes me feel much better!"
Arrgh! I now have something new to worry about. As it is, anytime it's close to hubby coming home, if I hear sirens I am disquieted. He does usually turn up intact but I already envision the destruction he leaves in his wake.
I hate being a passenger as he decides last minute to change lanes, proving that with enough velocity, the universal rules of fitting large objects into tight spaces do not apply. Turn signals aren't for him, unless used as a metronomic
accompaniment to his signalling left whilst turning right. Stop signs are optional. Sometimes he'll stop at a green light, presumably to check on another hypothetical road-user of similar creed who might be crossing on red. It's very upsetting for those slamming on the brakes behind him.
Pedestrians have no right of way, especially the shorter ones, who are such a road hazard, as they can't be seen over the front of his SUV. Some have even had the audacity to knock on the front to announce their presence. I hate that too, don't you?
