When you have 60 hours extra a week because the horses have gone to the farm for 2 months as the racing season winds down you get to do all kinds of things you kind of put on the back burner during the grueling racing season. So here I am after 2 years absence. But I'm having a problem; I created 2 separate blogs with 2 different email accounts way back when and I want to get rid of one and keep the other. The one I want to keep is attached to an email address that I don't use at all. So what to do? Then there's the problem of creating a bunch of new passwords. Hey. What the hey. Here I am. Watching South Pacific and imagining I'm on a South Pacific island baking in the sun. I get this way in the dead of winter when everything is bleak, dark, cold, slushy. Awful. Oh for a gentle ocean breeze. Well see you in a bit. Not much to add tonight. You see the photo of the 2 horses; a dark bay and a chestnut? Well those 2 darling horses are gone to Heaven. Something I did December 12, 2014 in an effort to cut the never ending bleed of money. I'm sorry I did it. I couldn't see any other way. Their names were Juicy (Work of Arc - the Dark bay) and Fish (Farwick - the Chestnut). I love them. I miss them. I'll see them in Heaven and they will forgive me.

Montenegro

It was in the early 80s that I saw this film. Can't remember where or how; perhaps at U of T or the films screened by York U on Friday nights. I think the latter might be the correct answer. I know now where I get my love for coloured lights, and dimly lit nightclubs, strange Serbian music, fireworks, meandering corridors and rambling rooms, dissheveled rooms and hair, pearls and chickens, and eccentricity run rampant. What I don't get or want to get is the ending. But what the hell, it was made in Sweden not the USA.

Another Day in Paradise

Horses trained like little monsters; the ones that were training. The filly went to Chill Out Corner; the Sandring because she's ready to explode and the little Mare who ran 3rd the other day; had to get walked with the chain in her mouth 'cause she's also ready to cause damage. She's bloody full of herself. A blue, cloudless, beautiful morning with a light wind. Tried to get to Silver Duck to see how the newly released pigeon is doing but got caught by a huge block of traffic on Steeles and a train on Hwy 7 as I tried to divert. Gave up and headed back towards the clinic. Phoned Tim later and he told me he observed the pigeon hanging with a group outside his barn; on the edges but nevertheless there. He insisted that he was there. No carcasses observed on the grass so maybe the little pigeon will have a chance. At the clinic Len tells me a client complained. A client came in on Saturday with maybe 2 animals and his son. There may have been another person there but I can't remember because I remember it was hot in the room and busy with a lot of talking and activity. I was telling jokes, I was tired, I wanted to get on and over with the morning. They told me the dog had a Parotid Duct Transposition surgery at a Referral clinic and I expressed surprise and admiration and asked jokingly "What do you do for a living?" And the client answered that he was a mechanic. I said it was amazing to me and admirable that he had gone to that extent to help his dog. Later he tells me his son wants to be a Vet. So jokingly I said if he was smart enough to get INTO vet school he should go directly to Law School. Well apparently later on they complained that I was unprofessional. This came from the wife who had been sitting outside listening on the other side of a closed door in the front office. I saw her when they left sitting out there dourly and wondered why she hadn't come in. They also asked for some specialty eye meds that they had apparently ordered before; I ran around looking for meds that weren't even there; meds they had never really ordered. he had lied. He said he phoned in at the beginning of the week. Then I see in the computer that Sarah had put a comment in their file that they are always late and sometimes don't show for appointments. Unprofessional? I say they need to get their noses out of their asses and live a little. Methinks they take themselves a little too seriously.

Went to the farm yesterday; a brilliant cloudless blue sky warm with a gentle breeze. Went to see Ma. And discover the mystery of the endless container of thyroid powder that never seems to run out; it turns out Howie was out there just a month ago with a new plastic container and didn't tell me this. That is why Josephine never seems to run out of powder for Ma. The plan was to release the pigeon who has been living helter skelter in the bathroom since late November last year. He still can't fly long distances and spends most of his days sitting looking out of the bathroom window. So we released him. And he wondered a bit confused around in the doorway of the middle barn where the feed is kept; the only really clean barn because it is completely devoid of Josephine's ducks, turkeys and geese. There was some feed there for him to snack on and no animals in sight so hopefully he'll get some flying skills back quickly enough. I hope he'll be okay. While there I scooped one of the feathers dropped by Josephine's peacocks; a long incredibly gorgeous feather probably 2 1/2 feet long with all the iridescent colours you could imagine in the fronds. When I showed it to my mother the first words out of her mouth were; (not wow what a beautiful feather) "I had a peacock feather once, I threw it out because someone told me it was bad luck". and with that she turned back to the sink. My mother is one of the living dead. I said "you threw it out??" incredulous "A peacock feather? Well your friend was stupid. You listened to your friend" There are very few words to describe my reaction. There is very little I can say. I think my mother is one of the most profoundly obtuse and stupid people that walks the planet. I feel no love for her only pity.

The concensus is in from the recent foray to Fort Lauderdale. I didn't have the great time I anticipated. The ocean is still wonderful and alive and on the surface there is no evidence of the damage we have been doing to it; its infinite colours and forms always delights me and soothes my soul. There are subtle changes to the people and to the place. Latin culture reigns supreme. 50/50 Jewish/Latin. Anything else is a minority. The Quebecois are there in full throng but to me they are invisible; they open their mouths and out comes the soft "d" that represents "the" and I am gone, gone. I can't bear to hear them butcher English. Nice, eh? The Latinas are another story; if you hang out a little you'll come to think that there is nothing going on in any of their heads that doesn't involve their nails or tits. Florida resembles a country under seige. It made me feel kind of what I would feel should I walk down the street in Leningrad about 50 years ago; the suspicion, the depression, the hopelessness permeates everything. The old people are not merely old; they appear destitute when you get away from the grand hotels and Gulfstream. An old guy outside the Speedy laundromat just yesterday, gray ponytail pulled back wearing army surplus flak jacket and shorts was old, hunched, fumbling in his backpack; I sensed the slow onset of Alzheimers. Once he was a hippy living on the beach and now he's fumbling among his plastic bags. There are lots of weather beaten street people many of them appear to be my age. Two weeks of Oprah, Dr. Phil, Lance Armstrong and the Jody Arias trial has rendered me angry, touchy and wanting desperately to be alone. Dialogue in two back to back Jennifer Lopez movies: "I was trying to take a piss" (Congressman played by Ralph Fiennes)and "He could be a total douche-bag which renders the whole thing moot" an older woman says to Zoe in The Back up Plan. Who writes this crap and why is it passed off as romantic comedy? Am I being mean if I say JLo is a crappy actress? That I hate her Latina inspired accent. Shouldn't really good actresses be able to grow out of, transform their acquired- at- birth accents?

someone asked me why i went to florida alone, why wasn't i hooked up with someone in florida. truth be told i expect so much from everyone that i honestly don't expect anyone to achieve my high standards of behaviour. but that's not really it. that's not really the truth. the truth is i'm deeply romantic and live in a hidden world of romance and beauty and i simply can't handle it when the world comes crashing in with all its mundane blandness. i really do want to love someone and have someone love me unequivocally back but geez with that love i want valour and romance and dash and fire without drama and negativity. king arthur, lancelot du lac rolled into one. i thought of Elizabeth I and saw a portrait of her with red hair. not particularly attractive but by all acounts passionate and brilliant and i thought hell she reminds me of me. and wouldn't you know it- the bitch was born on Sept 7 and she was a Virgo.

Happy Birthday Ada Lovelace!!! And in your honour I am going to watch another heroine (although fictional) from your time: Lucinda Leplastrier in Oscar and Lucinda (Cate Blanchette and Ralph Fiennes).