Has been a while since I wrote. Keep thinking I'll make a habit of getting on and writing rather than playing stupid games while I wait for some program to load. Have had a busy last week however. Nicki came to stay from Wednesday to Saturday. Picked her up from the airport on Wednesday, spent Thursday with K and C doing art at K's house (although I didn't get much done - must take something in progress next time). Friday we went to a rodeo for N's birthday and Saturday I took her into Brisbane to a friend's. The friend would take her to the airport Sunday morning thus saving me another trip.
Going to the rodeo was not the joyous occasion it should be. I am getting more and more sensitive to animals as I age. Watching the bulls and horses being ridden (or attempting to be ridden) was difficult enough but I consoled myself with the good condition they were in and the fact that their discomfort lasted only a few seconds (or minutes if you count the tacking up with the bucking strap). But then they had the junior section. Poddy calves being ridden by young boys. Everyone thought it was great. There was yahooing, cheering and clapping from the spectators. I cried. Tried not to show it. After all, this was N's birthday celebration and she was so excited about going to the rodeo, I didn't want to ruin it for her or make her feel guilty (she works for the government in NZ in setting standards for animal welfare). Yet I could see their faces. The babies, for that's what they were, were terrified, crying for their mothers. Could no one see it? We were frightening them, hurting them (for those young bones are not meant to carry weight) for our entertainment. Some of them fell as they came out of the chutes. I couldn't look.
Then there were the barrel racers. Girls on horses so soured by the sport that some of them had to led into the arena. And why wouldn't they be sour? They must go at full gallop to the first barrel where they are yanked back and around, then on to the next where the same thing happens and finally the third. When they get around the third barrel (and many fell, some to their knees others onto their sides because of heavy sand) the whip comes out and they were whipped across the finish line. What's in it for the horse but pain? Run, pain in the mouth as the rider yanks back and leans on one rein to get the horse around, flog on to the next barrel and so on. Many of the horses had very severe bits on with long shanks. It was a nightmare to watch. Where we sat I could see their eyes. Eyes rolled back in terror. I vow to never go to another rodeo as long as I live. I know there are standards in place for the welfare of the animals involved but there really is no excuse. It is a cruel 'sport'.
Started the beginners yoga class. Very good. I'm sore the next day although during the class, with one or two exceptions, I don't think I've worked very hard. You should see the arms on J the instructor. Feminine but powerful. She has a beautiful physique. Trim and solid without being hard. I like vinyasa but I also like my hatha. I like holding the poses for I think the effort involved trains the body. Vinyasa feels a bit like dancing (the little that we are doing, we are beginners after all). There were twenty people the first night and only nine on Monday. Don't know what's happened to them. You have to pay up front which would be incentive to keep going. I've been pretty regular at home too. Don't know what I did before yoga. I would hate to lose this hard gained flexibility. I'll never be as flexible as I was when I was a kid but I've surprised myself with the return of suppleness I thought lost forever.