So sorry about the lack of blog yesterday. Technical problems.
Today, the sun came out and the snow returned. A thin, cold, sparking white covered everything again.
It was a usual day. Did horses; walked dog; went to breakfast; discussed equality; went to shop. Went home, did work, read Racing Post, placed bets. Cooked food, ate food. (Beef, for strength.)
Won money. Shouted at the television. (Go on, my son.) Calmed dog, who is still slightly disconcerted by Saturday racing noise. Tweeted incontinently. Always do this on big racing days; oddly, it helps with the nerves.
Practically had seizure as Captain Conan, my huge, sure-fire bet of the day, only just managed to win by a neck. The gallant Captain had five lengths to make up after the last, and did it, step by dogged, gallant step. He’s always done it on class before; now he had to call on guts.
Felt exhausted but happy. Backed three seconds in a row. Lost money. Still well up on the day. Mr William Hill a bit green about the gills.
Walked dog in the chill afternoon air. Went back to horses.
Stood, in the gloaming, for about twenty minutes, just communing with my mare. I do that sometimes.
There’s all manner of work that we do, but sometimes, I like to stand. When she first arrived, she was nervy and uncertain. Everything was too strange for her. She did not want much human contact. I let her find her way. I don’t like crowding or smothering horses. Now, she will stand, at liberty in five acres of field, and choose to be by my side. It’s my finest compliment.
I put my cheek against hers and breath slowly. I murmur a bit of nonsense to her. I scratch her sweet spot. We gaze out at the trees and the sky. My heart turns over.
And that was my very ordinary, very good day.
Today’s pictures:
Herd, in the morning sun:
My glorious, dozy girl:
Stanley the Dog went for his first walk with the lovely Stepfather. He was really very good:
Serious sit and stay face:
Hill:
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