On the eve of my departure
I have a large bruise on my right thigh and another smaller one on my left knee from chasing Chuck’s guinea fowl yesterday afternoon. Never chase loud poultry while waving your arms and screaming “oogaboogaoogaboogawoohoo!” It can only lead to pain.
See, we’d just been riding Sandy’s ex-racehorse Rainman. He was well-behaved, so I wasn’t quite exhausted. I saw the remaining pair of fowl and found it hard to resist the urge to frolic with them. Sandy beat me to it and got the first spring in… then I followed.
Don’t chase fowl in riding boots. Clumps of dirt will trip you and fling you against the edge of the driveway, where the concrete will dig unforgivingly into your leg. Your helmet, which you have been carrying in your hand, will make a loud THWACK against the surface, making your roommate believe that you have broken your leg.
You will have no dignity, for you will come quickly to the realization that you are no longer running after the guinea fowl. Your legs have stopped moving. For some strange reason your hands will be resting against concrete. It is only then that you will come to the conclusion that you have tripped and fallen.
Perhaps someday I’ll learn to curb my enthusiasm. Then again, I haven’t gained such self-control yet; on our way back to the apartment we found ourselves alongside one of the Unitrans busses. Naturally, I rolled my window down and shouted “OOGABOOGAWOOOOOOO!” at the poor bus driver. His window was open, he turned with an unmistakable expression of confused fear toward our car, and tried to catch up.
Ah, what merriment will the morning bring?
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