Scarlett - 6 months portraits

Here are some pictures of our Scooter we had taken this weekend. Enjoy!

30 Before 30 - Horseback Riding

One of the big things on my 30 before 30 list was wanting to go horseback riding again. I've always had a fondness for horses and if I could, I would go back in time and become an equestrian. There's something so beautiful about horses that draws me. I've gone riding a few times in the past, but not for a long time.

As part of the 6th anniversary (Sept 18) of Jake and my engagement, he decided it would be a good idea to go back to Monterey to visit the spot where he proposed. On the way, he made reservations to go horseback riding on the beach by the dunes in Salinas. We arrived about 30 minutes early, and were riding with three people from England, so they were eager to try "Western Style" riding.

The guide's name was Butch and he brought all but one horse out from the trailer and they were all saddled and ready to go. Jake got matched with the tallest horse there, which was a chocolate brown male named Moose. I got a reddish/brown and white patched female named Angel. The three English people got Geronimo, Dakota and Buddy. The one horse that was left behind in the trailer was Dunny, who according to Butch was "the biggest troublemaker" and it was quite apparent that he was right considering the fit Dunny had when Butch closed the trailer door. I felt bad for poor Dunny, but it wasn't hot and there was a breeze, so I knew Dunny would be OK in the trailer.

Angel is the brown/white one on the far left. Moose is the brown one on the far right.

So we began down the trail and onto the beach. We were just walking at a decent pace, the waves of the Pacific Ocean reaching the horses' feet, and up to their ankles. It was really beautiful.

Then it happened...

I was 2nd in line after Butch on his horse, and I don't really remember what happened exactly. All I could remember was Angel moving really fast, holding onto the reins while watching the ground get closer and closer, and hearing Butch say "WHOA WHOA WHOA". Then I hit the sand. I guess a wave spooked Butch's horse, which spooked Angel. She turned and began to freak out, and threw me. I remember hitting the ground and thinking "Oh God, don't get stepped on" so I quickly got back up. I wasn't hurt since the sand gave me a soft landing, but my butt and back were wet from the wet sand and I was embarrased. Butch got Angel by the reins and brought her back to me. He asked if I was alright, I said yes. He said "Are you sure?" and I said "Yes. I would tell you if something was wrong". I was shaking from the adrenaline a little bit, but I was OK, and he said "OK, are you going to ride?" I said "Absolutely". So Butch knelt down so I could use his knee as a step stool and I got back onto Angel. I never felt threatened or like I was in danger. It was an accident and I understood that. Accidents happen. I was fine. Butch kept hinting at his fear that I would sue the stables for negligence, but I assured him that it was no one's fault, I knew that falling was a possibility, and I didn't blame anyone for what happened. I could tell he was still nervous, but I kept saying "It's no one's fault".

Notice the wet sand on my lower leg and jacket? But also notice I'm smiling???

We rode up the rest of the beach, onto a trail and back to the beach headed the other way. When we got back to the trailer, Dunny was still there, making noises as if to say "Well well well, look what the cat dragged in". It was pretty funny. Jake and I thanked Butch for the fun time and I again said "I'm not angry. It was an accident. It's no one's fault." I even wrote an email this morning thanking the owners for the nice time and assuring them that nothing bad was going to happen from my end and that I would recommend them to anyone.


So my first 30 before 30 activity is completed. And I'm still alive. :) But I would go riding again in a hot minute.

See? I made it! :)

10 years ago...

I was a senior in high school, and my Dad was driving me to school. I was about a week away from taking my driver test. My Dad was about to turn the corner to drop me off when I got a call on my cell phone from my mom who was already at work.

"I want to make sure you're alright" she said.

"I'm fine, why?" I replied.

"Did you watch the news this morning at all?" she asked.

"No, I didn't have a chance to, why?" I asked back.

"A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center in New York."

"Oh, no I haven't heard anything, but I'm OK" I said.

"OK, well if you need anything, I'm here so give me a call. I love you" she said.

"I love you too Mom, I'll talk to you later."

I got onto campus, and a different energy than usual permeated the air. Something was horribly wrong, and I could feel it. I walked to a familiar hang out and a classmate was on the phone with his Dad, talking about what happened. "They think San Francisco is next" he told me. WHAT? What was going on? I got into my class early; I was a teacher's aide for the Photography class. He had the news going and that was the moment I first saw them. Both towers were standing tall above the New York skyline, dark smoke billowing from the tops like huge chimneys. I didn't understand, who would do this? America, my country that I am so in love with, was being attacked.

The class milled in slowly as the TV still played. That day, there was no going onto campus to work on projects, no students in the dark room to process images. The teacher made no demands to do any work. We all just sat together and watched. Towards the middle of class, the first tower fell. Shortly after, the second tower fell. My mouth dropped to the floor as I saw the buildings disappear into a massive cloud of dust, ash and death below. It was gone.

The teacher muted the TV and said "Class, I need your attention for a moment." We all turned his way to hear what he had to say.

"I don't know if you realize this, but we now live in a world where the World Trade Center no longer exists." Then it hit me.

I'd always had this idealistic view of my country. We were the beloved ones who did no wrong. No one could hate us so much to hurt us in such a way as that day. The rose colored glasses were ripped off my face. People hated us, somw so much to hurt us. The only reason the people did this the way they did is to just kill. Kill as many people as possible at one time to make a statement. Well, the statement was made. Point taken.

I didn't know how to react. I was just numb. I hadn't seen the planes go into the buildings, just the buildings themselves on fire and imploding. Through the rest of the day, there was no classwork, no lectures, no notes taken. It was all of us glued to the TVs, in disbelief that what had happened, happened. Then the end of my classes had come and my Dad was waiting to pick me up. As I sat in his truck on the ride home, I just stared into space. We stopped at the grocery store, and as I got out to follow him in, the tears came. They didn't stop. All my Dad could do was hold me in the parking lot of a grocery store. He said "I know. I know. I'm angry too."

That night my parents and I watched the news together and I got to see the planes go into the buildings for the first time. There were different angles of the impacts taken by different people. The one that hit me the most was a view from below of the 2nd plane. You could see the windows on the airliner plane. It hit me again. There were people on those planes who could see their deaths in front of them. I could imagine them praying, screaming, crying, holding each other. I could see them calling their loved ones to tell them they loved them one last time. It hit me again, and I cried uncontrollably. Our country was attacked, and it's innocent citizens were mass casualties of war.

Also during that day, I have a cousin who lives in New Jersey, but was working in Manhattan at the time. Her parents as well as the rest of the family were trying desperately to get a hold of her to make sure she was OK. She called us to let us know she was fine and had to take a ferry from Manhattan to New Jersey, and walk home to Hoboken. The whole journey took her about 7 hours if I remember correctly, but she saw everything happen from the roof of her office.

10 years later, the images still haunt me. I sometimes YouTube the videos to remind myself that what happened was real. Now I'm 27, married, have a 5 month old daughter and 3 cats. I had always wanted to go pay my respects in New York and visit Ground Zero. I feel I need to, still. I feel I need to go there to tell those that died that even though I wasn't there physically that day, that I think about them.

9/11/2001 - I will never forget.