In Which I Almost Die
I had a dream last night that someone showed up and ate my crac-a-nuts.
It might be the worst dream I ever had. Crac-a-nuts are precious in the sight of Amy!
*
I recently read a book wherein the main character, Sarah, was asked by her boyfriend what her favourite animal was. "Steak," she replied. I thought it was such a brilliant answer that I immediately adopted it and started hunting for an excuse to use it. During my weekend in Arizona, I was sitting around talking with Ammon and Benjamin when I was asked what my favourite animal was. Perfect! I couldn't have been handed a better scenario if I'd scripted it!
"Steak," replied I, feeling full of smug and wit.
"...Not bacon?" Benjamin asked.
o__o
I was completely mortified. My perfectly scripted scenario was ruined because I couldn't be bothered to remember my favourite meat.
I am now on the hunt for an excuse to say bacon is my favourite animal.
So, I survived Arizona! Heat-wise, it actually wasn't that bad. When I got back to Utah yesterday, Utah was hotter than Arizona had been. In so many ways I take issue with that.
I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. Unfortunately for you lot, I don't believe in taking pictures, so I have no proof of anything I did, but I had many adventures, one of which involved a rodeo. Now I went down to Snowflake, Arizona with Johanna's family because her father's grandfather (great-grandfather?) settled the town. One of the men (grandfather or great-grandfather--not quite sure which and she isn't home to give me an accurate genealogy) had nine children with his wife. When she died, he married again and had fifteen more children--hence about ten million descendants live in Snowflake. They always have a huge July 24th celebration (which is Pioneer Day for the LDS Church, in case anybody is reading this who isn't Momon) and part of that celebration is a family rodeo. I spent most of the rodeo sitting on the fence with Johanna, Benjamin, Ammon and Christiana (half of Johanna's siblings). Despite giving us an excellent view, this turned out to be a terrible idea for two reasons: 1) sitting on a pole that long will hurt anyone's bum, and 2) it turned my pants red. Consequently I spend the rest of the day with a rusty-coloured sore bum.
Anywho, one of the events is stick-horse keg racing. In regular keg racing, the participants have to sit on a keg (which is a fancy word for plastic crate), and when the announcer hollers, "GO!" they leap on their horses, race around a barrel, and head back for a keg to sit on. While they're racing towards the barrel, one of the kegs is removed, so you have to get back soon enough to get a keg. In stick-horse keg racing, we use a stick as a horse instead of an actual horse. This way lame-o's like me can participate, as I am somewhat mildly afeared of horses (Paris Youth Conference 2002, anyone?)
Benjamin decided he wanted to participate, so he looked at me and said, "Amy, let's do it!"
I looked back and said, "Uh-uhhhh. You aren't getting me in that dirt pile."
So he turned to Johanna and said, "Let's go!"
She went. It made me look bad.
But then Ammon decided he wanted to participate, so I agreed to be his partner.
Okay, when watching the first heat of keg races, it did look kind of fun, so I didn't think too much about joining. It wasn't until I was actually participating and had gone through about three rounds that I realized why this was a terrible idea: Running. We had to mount our "horses" and run to the barrel, run around the barrel, and run back to a keg. And then we had to do it again.
And again.
And again.
It didn't take long for me to remember that I'm woefully out of shape and haven't run this much since..... well, let's just say it's been a very long time.
Ammon, on the other hand, just completed his senior year of high school and was on the track team. Plus he's a Boone. They run for fun.
Did I stress the part where I do not?
Basically our event consisted of me running my little heart out, thinking I was going to die of an exploded lung, while Ammon pulled me along by the stick.
Despite his handicap (me), Ammon did extremely well and narrowed the race down to Johanna and Ben versus Ammon and me. This was a challenge indeed. We were not to lose to those miscreants! Our combined ages made our team the younger one, and it is always a happy day in paradise when the younger sibling(s) can defeat the older siblings.
The announcer hollered, "GO!" and we were off. We beat them to the barrel and rounded it, preparing to make a mad dash home to the keg for sweet, sweet victory!
That's when my lame, pathetic body gave out.
It was a toss up whether I was going to die or collapse into a twenty-year coma, which somehow translated into me not quite making it around the barrel and letting go of the stick. Yes, that's right, I let go of the stick.
Do you know what happens when you let go of a stick that is mercilessly dragging you along as you round a barrel?
You go flying.
I went flying. I hit the dirt and rolled and heaved a sigh of relief because although we (shamefully) lost, I wasn't going to die.
I was, however, covered in dirt.
Mostly I feel bad for Ammon, who totally could have whooped everyone if he'd had a better partner. Sorry, Ammon! That's what you get for having me as a partner. I am lamesauce!
At least I got to limp back to our patch of fence and try to heave in great gasps of air. My running stint was done. Johanna and Benjamin had only won our heat; they still had to compete for the true victory, so they had to keep running. They didn't quite make it to first...but they beat me, so they definitely won.
Next year (if there is a next year), I'm going to be ready for it and I'm totally going to defeat them!
In the same book as referenced above, when asked what Sarah likes to do for exercise, her response was, "Panic."
I'm going to have to get over this whole panicking thing if I'm going to do any defeating.
Amy: What if the gravity fails?
Doctor: I've thought about that.
Amy: And?
Doctor: We'll all plunge to our deaths. See? I've thought about it!
~~Dr. Who, 5.5
It might be the worst dream I ever had. Crac-a-nuts are precious in the sight of Amy!
*
I recently read a book wherein the main character, Sarah, was asked by her boyfriend what her favourite animal was. "Steak," she replied. I thought it was such a brilliant answer that I immediately adopted it and started hunting for an excuse to use it. During my weekend in Arizona, I was sitting around talking with Ammon and Benjamin when I was asked what my favourite animal was. Perfect! I couldn't have been handed a better scenario if I'd scripted it!
"Steak," replied I, feeling full of smug and wit.
"...Not bacon?" Benjamin asked.
o__o
I was completely mortified. My perfectly scripted scenario was ruined because I couldn't be bothered to remember my favourite meat.
I am now on the hunt for an excuse to say bacon is my favourite animal.
So, I survived Arizona! Heat-wise, it actually wasn't that bad. When I got back to Utah yesterday, Utah was hotter than Arizona had been. In so many ways I take issue with that.
I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. Unfortunately for you lot, I don't believe in taking pictures, so I have no proof of anything I did, but I had many adventures, one of which involved a rodeo. Now I went down to Snowflake, Arizona with Johanna's family because her father's grandfather (great-grandfather?) settled the town. One of the men (grandfather or great-grandfather--not quite sure which and she isn't home to give me an accurate genealogy) had nine children with his wife. When she died, he married again and had fifteen more children--hence about ten million descendants live in Snowflake. They always have a huge July 24th celebration (which is Pioneer Day for the LDS Church, in case anybody is reading this who isn't Momon) and part of that celebration is a family rodeo. I spent most of the rodeo sitting on the fence with Johanna, Benjamin, Ammon and Christiana (half of Johanna's siblings). Despite giving us an excellent view, this turned out to be a terrible idea for two reasons: 1) sitting on a pole that long will hurt anyone's bum, and 2) it turned my pants red. Consequently I spend the rest of the day with a rusty-coloured sore bum.
Anywho, one of the events is stick-horse keg racing. In regular keg racing, the participants have to sit on a keg (which is a fancy word for plastic crate), and when the announcer hollers, "GO!" they leap on their horses, race around a barrel, and head back for a keg to sit on. While they're racing towards the barrel, one of the kegs is removed, so you have to get back soon enough to get a keg. In stick-horse keg racing, we use a stick as a horse instead of an actual horse. This way lame-o's like me can participate, as I am somewhat mildly afeared of horses (Paris Youth Conference 2002, anyone?)
Benjamin decided he wanted to participate, so he looked at me and said, "Amy, let's do it!"
I looked back and said, "Uh-uhhhh. You aren't getting me in that dirt pile."
So he turned to Johanna and said, "Let's go!"
She went. It made me look bad.
But then Ammon decided he wanted to participate, so I agreed to be his partner.
Okay, when watching the first heat of keg races, it did look kind of fun, so I didn't think too much about joining. It wasn't until I was actually participating and had gone through about three rounds that I realized why this was a terrible idea: Running. We had to mount our "horses" and run to the barrel, run around the barrel, and run back to a keg. And then we had to do it again.
And again.
And again.
It didn't take long for me to remember that I'm woefully out of shape and haven't run this much since..... well, let's just say it's been a very long time.
Ammon, on the other hand, just completed his senior year of high school and was on the track team. Plus he's a Boone. They run for fun.
Did I stress the part where I do not?
Basically our event consisted of me running my little heart out, thinking I was going to die of an exploded lung, while Ammon pulled me along by the stick.
Despite his handicap (me), Ammon did extremely well and narrowed the race down to Johanna and Ben versus Ammon and me. This was a challenge indeed. We were not to lose to those miscreants! Our combined ages made our team the younger one, and it is always a happy day in paradise when the younger sibling(s) can defeat the older siblings.
The announcer hollered, "GO!" and we were off. We beat them to the barrel and rounded it, preparing to make a mad dash home to the keg for sweet, sweet victory!
That's when my lame, pathetic body gave out.
It was a toss up whether I was going to die or collapse into a twenty-year coma, which somehow translated into me not quite making it around the barrel and letting go of the stick. Yes, that's right, I let go of the stick.
Do you know what happens when you let go of a stick that is mercilessly dragging you along as you round a barrel?
You go flying.
I went flying. I hit the dirt and rolled and heaved a sigh of relief because although we (shamefully) lost, I wasn't going to die.
I was, however, covered in dirt.
Mostly I feel bad for Ammon, who totally could have whooped everyone if he'd had a better partner. Sorry, Ammon! That's what you get for having me as a partner. I am lamesauce!
At least I got to limp back to our patch of fence and try to heave in great gasps of air. My running stint was done. Johanna and Benjamin had only won our heat; they still had to compete for the true victory, so they had to keep running. They didn't quite make it to first...but they beat me, so they definitely won.
Next year (if there is a next year), I'm going to be ready for it and I'm totally going to defeat them!
In the same book as referenced above, when asked what Sarah likes to do for exercise, her response was, "Panic."
I'm going to have to get over this whole panicking thing if I'm going to do any defeating.
Amy: What if the gravity fails?
Doctor: I've thought about that.
Amy: And?
Doctor: We'll all plunge to our deaths. See? I've thought about it!
~~Dr. Who, 5.5