open letter to the people who ride horses down Emery Lane

Dear sister,

I've been thinking about you all day, because it's been 95 degrees up here - in the shade - and when it's hot enough up here that the brothers call off work for the day, well ... it must be bloody unbearable in the city. I hope you haven't melted away on me. Even with the sun down it's still too hot to do much else but sit in front of a fan and read, so I'll make this one quick:

Dear Horse-Riders,

I understand that Emery Lane is picturesque, quiet, and well-shaded. And that it links up to Maudsley State Park, so we're bound to get some foot (and hoof) traffic from those paths. And that it is, technically, a town road, even though the monastery is the only thing on it. So all that put together, I do admit that you have every right to take your horses out for a nice trot at the end of the day.

You know, it's actually even sort of picturesque for us, to be sitting at supper and hear the clomp-clomp of horse hoofs. It adds to the slow-life mentality and the late 1800s countryside idyll of this place. (Though when we look out and see you on your cell phone as you ride by, that does kind of kill the illusion just a tad.)

You're not alone, anyway. Plenty of people go by during the day - cyclists and runners, dog-walkers and tourists taking photos, and once those adorable pre-teens who were trying to out-dare each other by taking their skateboards down our (admittedly not very steep) hill.

The thing is, and I'm not saying anything, but all I'm saying is, none of those sets of people leave enormous piles of horse dung in the middle of our otherwise calm and peaceful lane.

Love,
the-one-who-is-often-in-tasked-with-cleaning-up-the-grounds-around-here-but-thank-goodness-has-yet-to-have-to-deal-with-THAT

So yeah. I'm going to bed now. I hope you are too.

Love,
your sister