No, you silly people, that’s a term from the horsey set, not the BDSM set. But it’s essentially what happened to me as I was trying to lose 5 pounds on a vacation. The occasion is Mrs. Edge’s family reunion, and instead of being cooped up in an oversized cottage on the Carolina shore with a dozen and a half in-laws, I decided to make time to be out of the house for a while. It’s tough, because most of the time they are cooking and eating. The kitchen is awash in cookies, chips, donuts, cake, sausages, bacon, cheeses, potatoe salad, and pretty much everything else that I’m trying to avoid for the next few months.
And yes, the parallel with the orgasm denial which Mrs. Edge and I sometimes practice has provided me with a few moments of ironic humor, especially when I’ve cooked a few things that everyone raves about, but which I won’t eat.
Anyway, the shoreline highway has been long, flat, and beckoning. Here’s a few shots of me mugging it up at the various mileposts. On this particular day, I started out too late in the morning, and got a bit overheated on the way home. I pulled over to the side of the road and waded into the ocean to cool off, shoes and all. And when I made it home, I waded into the pool exactly the same way.
I’ve scheduled this post to show up later, so I’ll have been back for several days when this gets published. The weather has been great so far; it’s hot and sunny, so I’ve been keeping my shirt on when I ride, and using suncreeen before I head out.
And no, I’m not wearing a sweater. I’m posing shirtless for the handful of readers who prefer the “natural” look on a man.