Overheard at the Colophon Cafe

"Today is his birthday," said one old woman to another. "I always remember."

The two women sat together at a cafe table under an umbrella in Old Fairhaven. It was a nice day. They sat in shade but bright blue sky lit the canopy above them, making the silver in their hair shine softly.

"Whose birthday?" asked the companion to the first.

"Someone I knew a long time ago. A very long time ago. Happens once in a lifetime you know someone like that." She dropped her eyes, and stirred her tea with a spoon. The second woman put her hands in her lap and gave her full attention to her friend as she spoke.

"I saw him a couple of weeks ago. I was at Larrabee Park walking the dogs. He was sitting on a bench, and I thought, that's him. I'm pretty sure that's him, but I hadn't seen him in fifteen years or more. So I walked closer to have a better look, and he said, Cynthia, is that you? And I said yes, it's me. Sit down he said, and I did, and I settled the little dogs at my feet. I didn't know quite how to talk to him, but once he began to speak to me there were suddenly lots of things to say. And trying to recall it now, I'm not sure I remember what we talked about, but there we were and it was wonderful.

"I'm sure we talked about our families and our children, and how they'd all grown. And the books we'd read and the places we'd been. The people we knew and how they'd changed or moved on.  And that peace came over me, I wish I could describe it. It's that feeling that's always been there when I'd see him. I could see he still felt it, too. So familiar and welcome it was. I could smell his cologne mixed with the tobacco of his pipe, as it always was.  His blue eyes were the same though they shone through a lined face. His smile still slow and wry. Timeless, I thought, the word here is timeless.

"I don't know how long we sat. A woman approached and sat down at the other side of him. He said, Cynthia, this is Angela, my wife. We've been married ten years now. And I said, it's good to meet you, Angela. I'm just an old friend, I said, I knew your husband when he was a young man. She said my husband has known many women, I could not keep track of the stories he's told me. She took his hand and squeezed it, watching my face.

"She's a nice looking woman, that Angela. She looks foreign, maybe Latin, and I could tell she was very pretty when she was a girl. I'd like to say she doesn't match with him, but how can I say that? How would I know who suits him? And she smiled at me, and he turned silent. It was awkward. I stood up and said I had an appointment, so I had to get going. Polite goodbyes were exchanged.

"I looked over my shoulder, just once, as I walked away. I could see that she was talking rapidly to him, and he was nodding at her words as he looked over the lawns toward trees and ridges. I felt just a whisper of that peaceful feeling as it rose upward and out of me, leaving a chill behind.

"I received a note from him shortly after that day. He said it was good to see me after so many years and that we should meet sometime, soon. I tucked into a shoebox, afraid my husband would see it. I should throw it away. I have not answered the note. I wouldn't know what to say.

"And just now when I see those Latin women, there, over by the fountain with their grandchildren, I feel like getting up and walking away. It's silly, I know, and I'll stay right here.

"It feels cold, suddenly. Could you hand me my sweater?"

"The heart has it's reasons whereof reason knows nothing." Pascal

False Flags and Phony Credentials

"False flag operations are covert operations designed to deceive the public in such a way that the operations appear as though they are being carried out by other entities." Wikipedia.

A friend of mine sent me a Youtube video clip of someone named Alan Sabrosky, who knows the real reason the World Trade Center was attacked and destroyed. The Jews did it. They did it to help George Bush start a war with Iraq. Bush and his cronies wanted to go to war so bad they were willing to take part in a conspiracy that would cost thousands of innocent lives. They couldn't have done this without who knows how many Trade Center employees and tenants looking the other way while hundreds of pounds of explosives were brought in and placed by dozens of pyrotechnic crew, suppressing the New York City Fire Department and hundreds of after-the-disaster inspectors. There would have been an incredible number of people in the know, and somehow everybody kept it secret! Even now that the cat is out of the bag, it's still protected!

You see, the Jews and our president knew the radical Islam terrorists were going to run airplanes into the towers. All the Jews had to do was set explosive charges around the foundations and make sure of total destruction and huge loss of innocent lives. Just wait for the airplanes and hit the plungers. Then with a nod and a wink to George W, they would be assured he'd help them kick butt on those Muslim nations, starting with W's favorite Iraq.

Most Jews are guilty of some kind of treason because they have loyalties to Israel, and everybody knows you can't divide patriotism.

Alan Sabrosky is a retired Marine who knows all this because twenty-five years ago he worked as an administrator at the U.S. Army War College, as a librarian more or less. Nevermind that he was long gone from there when the Twin Towers were attacked, and not likely be privy to classified information with only a mid-level securty clearance. But he knows! It doesn't really matter how he knows!

It amazes me that so many people will take this guy's word without questioning his qualification or checking his facts. I have to think it's because some people have hatred in their hearts so deep that it doesn't take much to get them to open up Granddaddy's trunk and dust off the white robes and pointed hats. Just tell em who to hate and they'll get right on it.

I've got a whole list of citations to support this rant. Yeah,  I could have been more eloquent and quoted leaders, experts, and documents. But why bother?

Conspiracy theorists don't need real logic and evidence. They create their own and steadfastly defend it. If you offer them alternatives, they'll reject all of it. And then they'll attack YOU. If you are not "us" you must be "them."

Most of these guys are so antisocial and generally disagreeable they can't get along with each other to get much of a gang up. I believe that is the case with this bunch rallying around Sabrosky and his friends. In the meantime they cause fear and distress to the innocent people made suspect through ignorance. And I'll include this word: Evil.

My sympathy and support go to the good Jewish people, no doubt the vast majority. And my gratitude for good Americans of all faiths who use critical thinking and good judgment in keeping the the light shining into the dark corners as much as they can.

Here's a place to start if you want to read more detail on World Trade Center conspiracy theories: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Trade_Center_controlled_demolition_conspiracy_theories

World Travel My Style

Mom:

I'll try to give you a call tomorrow or the day after. Slight change of plans... I want to see if you can fly down first, and a little earlier... say any time in Feb... beg, mid, or end. Shu Li has never been on an airplane before nor left the country and is moderately afraid. She would rather meet you first and have our families know each other before traveling across the ocean into an unknown world. That's not how she said it, but I'm pretty sure it's how she feels.

Maybe I can meet you at Harbin's airport and we stay for 4 or 5 days at Harbin's Holiday Inn, then fly home as a group? We'll crash in WA for 2 weeks probably, then head back. It'll be a very exciting gig for all of us.

You are probably numb to surprises at this point, but in 2-3 years she and I might be opening that restaurant in America. 'Eat Chinese food downstairs, learn the Chinese language upstairs. Hmm *ponders*

Love,

Your son, Rick

Rickshaw, Harbin style

Hey, Rick:

So you want your old mother to fly over the ocean to Bejing by myself and change planes to go North to Harbin without being able to speak a word of Chinese. Then you want me to stay only five days, which isn't much time to go porcelain shopping, but just enough time to get food poisoning, and get major trauma when Shu Li tells me I ate a dog or a horse as well.

I suppose the ice and snow sculpture is all taken down and I'd just have to freeze my butt off without the pretty scenery. What's the average temperature? Minus 20? I hear the air is heavily polluted with coal smoke in the winter.

Ok. I'll do it. Let me figure out how. Send me as much information as you can.

Love and miss you,

Mom

Lokahi

Ka'ahumanu Church, Wailuku, Hawaii

On a recent visit to the island of Maui, I made time to attend Sunday services at Ka'ahumanu Church in Wailuku. I'd been wanting to do this for many years. My favorite aunt told me that she attends Hawaiian churches when she visits the islands, and she said the singing is beautiful and the congregations are friendly and welcoming.

Wailuku has several historic church buildings. I believe there are fourteen on the island of Maui. Most are Congregational in origin, these being established by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions of Boston, Massachussetts in the early 1800s. Some of the family members of these missionary families, such as the Baldwins and the Baileys, also pioneered the sugar industry. That makes for fascinating visits of historic sites and museums throughout the Hawaiian Islands if you are visiting.

These were missionaries of an untypical sort. They more or less personalized Christianity for indigenous people, such as the Hawaiians. One of the first things they did was teach the Hawaiians to read and write in their native language, so they had to put together an alphabet and written text for them to learn. The Bible was translated into Hawaiian language in this process, as were hymnals. As the Hawaiian people became converted, by choice not force, they also learned to speak, read and write in English. Some of the royalty and upper class even went on to higher education.

These Congregationalist missionaries provided as well for the Hawaiians as they were able, having a deep respect and love for the people and their culture. In fact, when the government of the Hawaiian territory outlawed the language and the culture in a wrong-minded attempt to unify the cultures, the Congregational church was the preserver of these things because the goverment could not violate the sanctuary of the church.

This particular parish in which I attended service, is named for Queen Ka'ahumanu, a devout Christian convert who was probably most the most influential in transforming the entire kingdom from the ancient to the modern. Ka'ahumanu was the favorite and most powerful wife of King Kamehameha I, who united the islands under one rule. She visited the site before the present structure was built, and she requested that it be named for her. The honor was gladly bestowed.

Queen Ka'ahumanu

I arrived at Ka'ahumanu Church a few minutes early. I stood on the big lawn in front of the New England style architecture and watched as a procession of Daughters of Hawaii and their escorts were given entry ahead of the other congregants. Dressed in all-black or all-white Victorian dresses, they each took the arm of an escort dressed in black suit with yellow and red cape. As I approached the steps, they smiled to welcome me. A deep, masculine voice chanted an invocation in Hawaiian as we all entered the sanctuary and found our seats with the procession in the front rows, the rest of us seated behind.

The Daughters of Hawaii were founded by a group of pastor's daughters to preserve Hawaiian places and language.

There were three of us caucasian faces in the room full of brown people. The Hawaiians are not small. They are large, strong and handsome people. And although few of them are of pure blood, having intermarried with Westerners, Asians and other Polynesians, there is no mistaking the "brand."

It is bright, and light and breezy inside. The windows and doors all open to the tropical air. The walls are painted white and the trim painted green like so many plantation houses in the islands. Decor is simple, the windows are plain glass, and athough there is koa wood and fine linens at the altar, a simple wooden cross is the focal point.

"Ekolu Mea Nui" sang the Na Po'e (the congregation sang the hymn "The Three Greatest Things" from a hymnal printed in Hawaiian. I held it in my hands as I listened)

"Ka hea ho'omana," said the Alaka'i. ("Call to worship," said the pastor.) "On the second day of Advent, Christ connects us to the church in the spirit of Lokahi, the Hawaiian word for Unity."

The Alaka'i, whose name is Kahu Loweana Hau, gave a sermon on the topic of unity beginning with reminding folks that no matter how the local political elections turned out, everyone should be supportive, not devisive, in living with decisions as they are made. He pointed to a portrait of King Kamehameha V, and said that in celebrating the birthday of this past monarch today, we should remember also that the king was a uniter and a peaceful man. Alaka'i quoted Mark Twain:

Kamehameha V, also known as King Lot. He was the last monarch, having left no heir.

"He was a wise sovereign; he had seen something of the world; he was educated and accomplished, and he tried hard to do well by his people, and succeeded. There was no trivial royal nonsense about him; He dressed plainly, poked about Honolulu, night or day, on his old horse, unattended; he was popular, greatly respected, and even beloved."

The structure of the hour of worship was typical Congregational style, identical to services I've attended at home. The communion was a little different, though. Alaka'i presented a whole loaf of homemade bread, broke it in half as he gave the blessing and poured wine from a caraffe into a chalice. We congregants came forward, broke a bit off the loaf and dipped it into the wine before eating it.

The singing was as my aunt described. Harmonious and robust. I can still hear it sometimes when I am falling asleep. The chanting at the beginning and end of the service stirs the emotions and resonates in your very bones.

Upon the conclusion of the service, all are embraced by Alaka'i at the exit.

"Hi!" He said to me in my native tongue. "I am glad you found us and came to join us. May God bless you and keep you."

"Aloha," I replied to him. "Beautiful service. Thank you."

I walked across the big lawn toward my car. I turned around for a moment and looked back at the beautiful building with the West Maui Mountains as a backdrop. Just up the road going into the Iao Valley, King Kamehameha the Great defeated his last enemy army and made the Iao stream run red with blood and clogged with bodies, beginning the unification of the islands. His queen, Ka'ahumanu assisted him by forming alliance with the Westerners and obtaining cannon and muskets for her husband's effort.

Kamehameha the Great

It is said that Ka'ahumanu's life as a royal Hawaiian did not please her and she was eager to reject the old ways for the new. She made great personal sacrifice and good use of her position to make vast changes for the love of the Christian church and of her people. This is a good article about who she may have been:
http://www.aloha-hawaii.com/hawaii/queen+kaahumanu/

Lokahi. Unity in the marriage of Kamehameha and Ka'ahumanu, Ka'ahumanu and the church, the church and the people.

Lovely service indeed, on the second day of Advent.

HO'ONANI I KA MAKUA MAU.


Iao Valley and Wailuku painted by Edward Bailey, a benefactor of Ka'ahumanu Church, in the mid-1800s



Letter From My Son, Rick, Harbin, China, December 2010

Harbin is known for it's Snow and Ice Festival every winter

I should probably write a slightly detailed note on some of the things that have happened to me during my China adventures.

Firstly, I would like to dispell some of the misconceptions I’ve heard floating around.

#1: China is a 3rd world country- Maybe; I’m not really sure. Harbin is not 3rd world. Everyone in my city has a job and everone has a bed. A common worker has enough money to eat good food every day and have some fun on the weekends, just like America. It may seem like average working wages are lower, but the cost of living is also much lower. It balances out.

#2: China is a dangerous place- Not true. China is safer than the U.S.; at least in Harbin. The homicide rate is about 200% less than Detroit, anyway. Because of the crowds and the contant construction, it appears dirty and dangerous; but no one has so far harrassed me. Occasionally a taxi driver or a street vendor will over charge me, but that doesn’t happen anymore now that I speak well and I don’t look lost.

#3: China has an oppressing government and human rights abuses are rampant- Although the laws sound strict, they are rarely enforced unless there is a complaint; and nobody does that. People here, based on what I’ve seen, take care of their own problems. Unfortunately, the media appreciates taking isolated incidents out of context and blowing them up, in spite of the fact that similar things happen in America.

#4: China is more socialistic than the U.S.- Tax rates for average citizens are actually lower; zero actually, if you’re below the 2000RMB mark. There aren’t any food stamps and there isn’t any subsidized housing. If you don’t work and you’ve got nobody to take care of you, you don’t eat. It may be a cruel system, but it is a fair one.

With that said, my adventures in China were (of course) scary at first, but I have very quickly fallen in love with the place. My first 3 days after arrival were spent in my hotel room, too terrified to explore Harbin’s loud, dirty streets alone; but when I finally lept in, I was filled with light. The people here are the most helpful, respectful, and interesting I have ever seen; and when I talk to them in their own language they are as thrilled as I.

Harbin has a population of about nine million. It doesn’t seem to be very big, but it is very dense. It also seems that every time I bend down to tie my shoes, I am in somebody’s way. Whenever I’m in a hurry, someone is in my way. It was fun and interesting at first, but it gets kind of annoying after awhile… not being able to take a casual walk down the sidewalk. It feels more like I’m a fish swimming upriver. Drivers beep their horns as often as they use their turn signals. It gave me a headache at first, but my ears have now grown numb to it.

Heilongjiang University, where I study, takes up an area about six times larger than Skagit Valley College. It’s about one mile long in all directions. 30,000 students live here with me, which I believe is about half the population of Anacortes? Regardless, students travel from class to class in giant rivers. Imagine needing to look both ways before crossing the street to avoid running into PEOPLE. This is Chinese life.

My dorm is the equivalent of a 3 star hotel, equipped with internet, a TV, room service, maid service, and a private bathroom. It’s a great luxury, compared to the packed-like-sardines Chinese student dorms that smell like rotting cabbage. It’s pretty cheap ($100 per month). The most delightful aspect is I can talk to students from all over the world here. Most of them are Russian or Korean, but there are also students from Africa, Italy, South America, and other parts of Europe. English speakers are quite rare, so most of the time we find ourselves talking in Chinese.

Dorm at college

My roommate is Russian, but he is of a different ethnicity, meaning he looks like he’s Chinese. He does not speak English but his Chinese is near-perfect. The guy is a clean freak and he sometimes has anger problems, but he’s very smart, very honorable, and we more often get along very well. That’s the #1: having a roommate that I know isn’t going to steal from me.

My Chinese classes are very difficult, primarily because (I think) nobody really knows how to effectively teach Chinese to foreigners. It’s being taught to us in a similar manner as it is taught to Chinese children, which doesn’t really work. I find myself preferring to learn by myself, writing the calligraphy and practice talking to actual people, and I’m very tempted to dismiss my classes very soon and do just that. I’ll skip the technicalities; I can go on and on.

A lot of very good things have happened to me here. #1, I’ve landed myself a relatively well-paying job teaching oral English to children. It’s a very enlightening experience for me as I get to help the little ones learn while gaining much needed skills. #2, I’ve landed myself a girlfriend, Shu Li. She’s 46 years old, and takes good care of me, as I do her. Someday, I’m going to go into business with her and make a lot of money. There are many ways on which her and I can help each other out. Maybe it is strange to be with an older woman, but I don’t care. I’m very happy, and it is what I want.

Rick in classroom where he teaches

Speaking of Shu Li, I’d better continue this later. I’d better head over and see what’s for dinner :D.

Shu Li

American Prince

Through a cat's eye, all things belong to the cat. No other point of view need be considered. An interesting perspective sometimes seen through a human eye, as well.

I just finished reading Tony Curtis' autobiography called American Prince. I'd given it to my mother for her birthday, thinking she might enjoy stories about a movie icon from her youth. She read it and gave it back to me, as she does with gift books. I didn't really know much about him, but he acted in so many movies, you couldn't avoid knowing who he was. Certainly a good-looking man, a natural athlete with plenty of personal charm. He was beautiful. Compact with tight muscles, abundant black curly hair and stunning blue eyes.

"See me!" this figure seems to shout from the photographs in the book. That's what show business is about. Look at him. Watch him walking and speaking and playing a part. His athleticism and perfectionism motivated him to perform his own stunts. He studied horsemanship ("Spartacus"), fencing ("The Prince Who Was a Thief"), aerial gymnastics ("Trapeze"), and yes that's really him chained up and submerged in water as the title role in "Houdini." He loved to give a great show.

There are many memoirs written by Hollywood people that tell great stories about movie making and personalities. This book does not skimp here. It's an ego-driven art form, and the drama-within-the-drama is most interesting.

I think it's marvelous that his co-writer, Peter Golenbock, lets him speak in his natural voice. You get a good grasp of Mr. Curtis' worldview, which is very, very narrow. Like a cat's eye. This is a man who grew up in a home where abuse, neglect, and a lack of demonstrated love was seasoned with poverty and prejudice. He was sensitive to anti-semitism (I didn't know he was Jewish until I read this book) and separatism. He had a keen hunger for recognition and praise.

Acting, applause, and the attention of Hollywood's most beautiful women were his life's striving . As much of these few things as he could possibly take in. And they all did belong to him. His gifts and his drive were undeniable. He made as many movies as he could, whether they were good or bad. He bedded and sometimes wedded the cream of feminine beauty. Married or not, he flew from flower to flower with joyful abandonment. He was absent from home for spans of weeks and months pursuing his career.

"After I sat down on the couch, Natalie (Wood) walked across to the trailer door and locked it. She came back to where I was sitting, sat down next to me, and kissed me deeply. It was a kiss that perfectly expressed the feeling that had been exquisitely building between us as we worked together... the next thing I knew we were making crazy love on the sofa of that trailer...

"As things played out, the pace of our shooting schedule in Salzberg kept us from finding a time when we could be together again, and in truth that was fine with me. I was happily married to Christine, and our first child, Alexandra, had already been born. Once we were done shooting the picture, I went back to my life, and Natalie went back to hers, and we both knew that was best for both of us...



With Natalie Wood from the movie "The Great Race"


"Over the years I had a powerful tendancy to fall for my leading ladies, and usually I found a way to make my feelings known. If a woman seemed receptive, I might make an advance, and if i got a good response to that, I would keep pressing my case. There's no question about the fact that I was driven to conquer every woman I met. I liked to think of myself as a ladies' man, and I felt quite compelled to prove it."



A break in the filming of "Some Like it Hot" with Marilyn Monroe. She became pregnant during this production, while married to Arthur Miller, and it was rumored to be Tony Curtis' baby. The preganancy was interrupted.

 So true, but wives and children can read tabloids and hear gossip. He seems mystified that he's let them down somehow.

"Not long before we split up, I took (my wife) Lisa to Paris as part of the publicity tour for my first book, Tony Curtis:  The Autobiography, and we had some crazy fun on the roof of our hotel. It was a very romantic evening, but it turned out to be the last one we would ever enjoy. After we returned to LA, Lisa came home late one night. She was drunk, so I said, 'Get out of here until you sober up.' She went downstairs to her bedroom and fell asleep. As I watched her walk away, I knew our marriage was over... There were no recriminations. I had had a good time while it lasted, and that was the end of that... I just moved on."

I'm imagining the humiliation Lisa must have experienced by the reading public as she toured with this man whose stories of debauchery were being circulated in hard cover. How did she hold her head up?

"You're drunk. Get out of here until you sober up."

He was mostly absent from the raising of his six children, who were raised by ex-wives. He did not know them well.

"I couldn't shake the feeling that I was somehow responsible for (son) Nicholas's death. Why did Nicholas get into drugs in the first place? Was he doing drugs because I had done them? Was he doing drugs because he had a void where his father should have been? We got along well, so I didn't think that was it...

"At Nicholas' funeral, a local minister got up and talked about Nicholas' poor mother and the loss she suffered. He never mentioned my name or even indicated that Nicholas had a father... After the service, I wrote him a letter asking, 'Why didn't you even mention my name?' Fuck him. He couldn't have been much of a minister or a father if he'd so completely lost sight of the Golden Rule."

He writes a few pages that mention the rest of his children and his pride in them, but being focused now on the woman du jour, his wife at the time of the writing, he devotes more verbage to the wonderful life they share. Many joys, few regrets. A man hates to be alone. "Things tend to balance out in the end," he says.

I hope that he said enough about his children that they feel some comfort after his death. It must have been a bewildering relationship for them, and I hope they have good therapists.

"They say that America's royalty is its Hollywood stars. The great thing about America is that you don't need to be born into a royal family. You could be born into an immigrant family in a New York tenement and still become a prince through hard work and desire."

"For better or for worse, I only stop to look back... Mostly I live in the moment, right now, and I'm grateful for it. I know that most of this life lies behind me, but what I live for is today, and for the tomorrows that remain... I can honestly say I've lived my time here fully..."

He passed away at age 85 in September. Few regrets, a life well-lived by a prince with the eyes of a cat.

China Doll

This is Fancy Charlie with one of Liz's advanced students. Certainly not me.

I arrived a little bit late for my riding lesson on Thursday afternoon. Just bad management of my own time, which I pay for. My instructor, Liz, said someone would be waiting for a lesson on Terra at the top of the hour, so I should tack up Fancy Charlie, who is a retired racehorse.

Charlie is 16.2 hands high, a big guy, and as gentle as a kitten. I'd ridden him twice before, and I like him a lot. He's not quite as fine-tuned as Terra, but he is more responsive and has a faster pace. There is a bit of thrill in that, even at my beginner level.

My friend, Debby, came along with me to watch the lesson, so I knew with her help we could get Charlie ready to go quickly and I wouldn't lose very much of my instruction time. Debby is a friend of twenty years. She has been riding English for at least that long, the best expert I know. She prefers thoroughbred horses, like Charlie, so she admired him instantly.

I put on my helmet and we walked the big horse into the indoor arena. It's very nice. A full-sized venue, it is well-lit and has several inches of washed sand as flooring. It's as safe a place as you're going to find for learning all styles of riding, including gaits and jumping.

Liz announced that we'd be working on balance in the saddle this day. We did a quick recap of the skills I've learned up to this point: transitions from walk to trot, sitting trot to posting trot, changing diagonals, leg yields, etc. Then she said, "Take your feet out of the stirrips and we'll do transitions without them."

I did fine with in a walk, then she sent me to trot and I began sliding around in that shiny English saddle. "I'm going to fall!" I said to her, pulling Charlie to a stop. Liz said I would not fall if I allowed my legs to hang straight down, my feet would become anchors.

Liz is the boss, and I sent Charlie into a slow trot, determined to keep my legs straight and long. And I began to slip sideways in the saddle... and the world tilted, spun and came to an abrupt halt. Charlie did a little hop to the left so he wouldn't step on me, then he stood still.

I landed butt first followed by my shoulders and head. The helmet is a good thing. Oh, the pain! Oh man did I hurt! The two women, Liz and Debby came walking over to where I lay in the sand.

"Wriggle your fingers," said Liz, "Now wriggle your toes." I did as instructed. "Can you sit up?"

No, I told her, I want to be still for awhile. I'm dizzy. I'm seeing stars, and I know what that is.

"Adrenalin," said Liz. "But you have to stand up as soon as you feel that you can." She and Debby each took an arm and got me to my feet. There was so much pain in my lower back, it made me feel angry and frustrated. A woman of my advanced age has no business falling from such a height. That's for kids.

"This dirt smells like poo poo," I said to Liz.

She replied with a bit of sarcasm, "Would you like me to get you an air freshener?"

On my feet now, they helped me to take steps. "You're alright. I could see you landed just the way you should," said Debby. And she stayed with me while Liz went to get Charlie. She brought the horse to the mounting block.

"Now get back on," she said. And Debby agreed. I had to get back on Charlie immediately. "It's about your muscles," said Liz, "You'll heal better if you stretch them a bit right away."

Before I went up the steps, I put my arms around Charlie's neck and rubbed his face. "I'm not mad at you, Charlie. You didn't do anything wrong." He nuzzled me and put his head on my shoulder. He was concerned about me, and I found that to be amazing and touching.

And I didn't let myself think, but I put my foot in the stirrip and mounted up. Liz had me walk, then trot and walk again for maybe ten minutes. It's a psychological thing, she told me then. You have to get back on while you're still in shock so as it lifts you remember being safe on the horse. If you don't do it immediately, chances are you won't ride again after your first fall. And it's good for Charlie, too, he needs to know he didn't hurt you.

"Ok. Now you can get down and walk Charlie to the cross ties for untacking." After dismounting, I fondled Charlie again, telling him he's a good guy and we're still friends. His big soft eyes looked me over. His coat was soft and fuzzy as the cold weather has thickened it, and he smelled good. Like a horse.

It's dumb to wear jeans with an English saddle. I've ordered proper riding breeches with a full seat so I won't slide like that again.

I couldn't wait to get home and tell my cowgirl friend, Heidi. I said yeah, I'm ok. I'm in bed after taking four ibuprofen. John brought me tea. It really hurts and I'm surprised I'm not in a hospital.

"The weather's great tomorrow," said Heidi, "Want to ride Ginger through the woods? I can take Skip."

"Give me a week to heal up," I replied, "Give an old lady a break."

"China Doll," said Heidi, laughing at me.

There are worse nicknames, I suppose.