Wowee! I didn’t even notice that bruise until Sunday morning. And I don’t think Photo Booth does it justice. Or else it has faded considerably.
I was in the middle of finishing up my house-moving process on Saturday, and when I woke I wondered should I go? Because my head was wrecked… but my body needed to move, and not just up and down stairs lifting boxes. So, given that I have moved closer to the horses, and I was eager to see what it felt like to take just one bus instead of two, or two buses and a taxi, or a bus and a tram and a bus — well, off I went.
And it was good. Walking up that long, long road is not great, but someone did finally take pity and give me a lift up to the yard, at about the halfway mark.
And it was stunning out, simply gorgeous, sunshine-y and the tiniest bit brisk.
And then we started jumping, and I wasn’t all there, and Connell stopped believing my intention to get over that second element, much less the third one, and balk followed run out and lead up to a big fat stop that had me tumbling, slamming down onto the pole — yup, never not gonna wear my back protector, thanks — and apparently, somehow, hitting my left forearm, too.
I’m reverse-engineering this in my mind… yeah, came off to the left, as you do… smack/bang onto the pole — the wing fell over twice, thanks to me, I think that is a new record — yeah, I guess I flung the arm out, or something?
Eh. It didn’t and doesn’t hurt, but damn, that is something else.
Note to self: just don’t ever talk, ever, about how you haven’t fallen off for a while. Just — don’t. Even as I was on my second chat about how well Connell and I had been going, and how my confidence is back, and blah blah, Little Voice in My Head was going, Shaddup shaddup, sssh, oh, for God’s sake.
Ah, well. I’d put some arnica on it — if I could find it!
Eyebrow is courtesy of HD Brows, and the review is here.