Letter About Dreams, Horseback Riding on Mount Ranier

Hi you.

Things have been crazy. Bona fide certifiable.

I hope you're well. Miss hearing from you. I had a dream you were working with me at this coop which was under construction. We were involved in some big media start-up venture. It was all very exciting. But the place was haunted by this ghost that you and I both saw.

Did you know that when you dream about houses or buildings, apparently the building represents your mind? So if you dream of construction, it means there's new growth and new ideas forming in your head. But apparently I have a ghost in my mind. Also, I've heard that everyone you dream represents a different facet of your own personality, so if you ask your dream friend a question, you're asking it of yourself. I personally think that sounds a bit egotistical. What do you think?

I miss LA really bad. I was listening to America on the radio and that "Horse with no name" song reminds me of running out in that arroyo in S. Pasedena where that horse ranch is. Did you know the rangers in the parks there ride horses? It's so cool.

Yesterday I went horseback riding way up in the mountains on these trails. It was terribly cold and rainy. I was wearing an Underarmor long-sleeve shirt, a fleece sweatshirt, a waterproof jacket and a down vest, a hat, jeans, waterproof pants, wool socks, hiking boots, and roping gloves made out of kangaroo skins (yeah... not so animal friendly I guess) and I still was cold. But the scenery was beautiful. It was way up by Mount Ranier and the fall leaves were all orangey and red and the drops of water looked like crystal on everything. My horse was named Desperado. There was this point at which we were coming down this steep precipice and the trail was very muddy and slippery, and Desperado nearly fell down and he sat on the ground, and somehow I stayed in the saddle. I felt like such a horsegirl.

Please tell me about you. Something besides work and relationships and such.

For some reason I really love this email. I'm reposting it as a blog.

Miss you,

Heather