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Pony lines

Yesterday, Sophie had texted me out of the blue asking if I wanted to go play polo today.  I hadn't played since before my accident, but the deal she'd found to go play was exceptionally good, so I agreed to meet her at Kew Gardens to go catch a ride to this place.

Today was the Young Dutchman's birthday, so while we were waiting for our ride, I gave him a call and left him a message.  He still hadn't gotten back to me with any idea of plans for what he wanted to do for his birthday, but I still wanted to make sure to acknowledge the day.  (He later told me that it had been a very low-key day, and he's just gone to see Skyfall with Kellogg Boy.  As he put it to me, "Sometimes I just get tired, you know?"  I had to laugh, because it was a sentiment I could understand completely).

We then met the guy who was giving us a ride to the place, and although he drove a bit too fast for my liking, we made it there right on time.  Sophie and I had been in a debate about whether or not to wear whites, but we both did, which I am glad of given that everybody there was wearing whites a well.  It might have only been a practice game, but it's still good form to dress properly, I guess!

I hadn't played polo since before my accident, so I was a bit worried about how I would manage, particularly as one has to hitch your left leg up high, getting your foot in the stirrup, bending your knee, and then hefting all of your weight into the saddle based on the strength of that one leg.  Yet despite all of these challenges, I did fine, and got into the saddle with no problems at all.

My first pony was great, very quick and responsive, and the second wasn't bad either.  The others kept complaining about their ponies, but I am tempted to think it was more a problem of bad riding than bad ponies.  I made sure right from the start to ride with a loose rein and not interfere with my pony's head, and they seemed to reward me by being responsive and working with me.  I didn't use a whip on either of them, but they were good for both games.

We spent about 15 minutes stick-and-balling before playing 12-minute chukkas, and I picked up hitting the ball again pretty readily.  Sophie jokingly said how it wasn't fair, that despite not having played in a year I was still a better player than she was.  I guess I'm just lucky that I've always been naturally good at polo...  During the games however, I wish I was more aggressive.  I always seemed to be just behind the action, not hooking or riding off people as much as I should.

Ponies in the mud

Right at the third chukka, it started raining a bit, but it cleared quickly and we were rewarded with the sight of a massive double-rainbow.  The colours were so bright in the sky on the first one, that it positively looked like someone had drawn a paintbrush across the template of the blue sky above.  Massively beautiful, it was hard to keep your eye on the game sometimes, it was so pretty to see.  Alas, one can't carry a camera whilst riding a pony and playing polo, so I have no photos of it!

After we played, we drove home again, where I quickly had to shower, change, and head out to meet Sweetheart for dinner.  We met at Notting Hill Gate, and I suggested a few places to him, before we decided to walk up to Notting Hill.  As we walked, he mentioned to me that he's been on sleeping meds for a while now, to the point where he's worried that he might be dependent on them.  I didn't know quite what to say, but it was a surprising admission from a guy who always seems so healthy all of the time.

I led him to a little pizza place that I knew of, and we had a good dinner and conversation, where we talked about our "number" (he claimed to have no idea what his was, and I told him my theory that the only number anybody needs to know is "three", based on a book I once read in an airport that claimed a study had shown that was the ideal number someone should have when they met someone).  

It was a good dinner, with really good American craft beers that this place had.  It was interesting to talk to him about directions he wished his life had gone, and how he thought he messed up when meeting people but getting overly-familiar too quickly.  It was an interesting side of a person who has always seemed so self-confident, to realise they have the same insecurities as anyone else.  I couldn't believe it when he told me that he'd calmed down a lot from how he once was, but

We then made it to the party, arriving just as some other people did, and made our way into the crowds.  Sweetheart seemed to do pretty well at finding people to talk to, and I found myself surprised to be in conversation with our hostess, who mentioned she was currently in conversations with her ex about getting back together.

It was sort of a shock to realise how much time had passed since we'd been at Oxford together, but at the time she'd dated an American guy who had since gone on to join the Marines, go to Afghanistan, get married, and was now known to be separating from his wife.  And she said to me, "I was in the US and we met up, and suddenly this all came out about how he'd never stopped thinking about me.  And I kind of feel like we could do this, given that I was 18 when we first got together, but I'm older and know more now."  All in all, it just made my head spin a bit.

At midnight, I gathered Sweetheart, and he insisted that we grab a cab home.  I could sense that his last conversation, with a girl who had been into him at first, had also gone down the tubes of his overly-famiilar nature.  And he was feeling a bit drunk and friendly and close to me, the girl who he is always going out with lately.  Yet...I just don't want to go there.  Not now, not with a guy who has slept with The Blonde, a guy who doesn't even know his own number.

So I very clearly told the cab driver that we would be making two stops, and when he tried to refuse my money when we got to my stop (saying "Your money isn't any good around here!") I simply gave it to the cab driver instead.  I planted a big kiss right on his lips (can't leave the poor guy hanging), and then scrambled out of the cab.  I know we flirt too much, but tonight was not the night...