I had a great idea for a photo essay blog post this week. Dave (freshly back from the polar south) and I spent a couple of days in Abiquiu where we discovered/ reacquainted ourselves with all sorts of Northern New Mexican cultural oddities and terrestrial delights.
Like this beer made by ne’er-do-well monks at Christ in the Desert monastery.
But really my great idea for this blog was to take a series of yoga shots at Plaza Blanca where we went hiking. You know how people like to take pictures of themselves doing yoga in scenic settings? The idea is that these were supposed to be really awkward and bad yoga poses whilst wearing a winter coat. Or just fairly lame ones like downward dog. For example:
But then I was doing some other ones and Dave made me stop because HE WAS AFRAID I WAS GOING TO FALL OFF THE ROCK. “Stop! Stop!” he yelled, or some such nonsense. I found this pretty annoying because when have I ever fallen off a rock? Never. At least not to my death.
But then today, I was in the bathroom, standing on the toilet lid, reaching for a bottle of mouthwash in an adjacent cabinet when the lateral pressure from my stretching snapped the toilet lid at its hinges and I fell. I fell into my toilet. Well I landed on the floor but my foot was entirely in the toilet. So maybe he has a point.
Merry Christmas sweet, dear, most cherished readers. I’m heading home to Ole Virginny on Tuesday. My home state is famous for peanuts, ham and cranking out the most U.S. presidents.