The End is Near

Delirium at the races. Everyone is in a Christmas-y mood. Because they see the end is near. Just 2 racing days away to sleep, relaxation (hopefully) and the no stress world of watching horses languishing on the farm. Enforced rest. Nathan W. the young hotshot from Lonestar is planning a cross-country trek to see his 25 or so horses of which he will choose 10 or so that he will bring up to Toronto. Got the world by the balls he thinks. Young, funny, charming as hell and a cowboy too, got it made. Had his Transam side by side with her huge gray Chrysler both cars running with headlights blaring beside the Jake Howard Centre. They were both in her big roomy car with a Mac open, screen flaring on her lap. All the bells and whistles. Splayed across the roomy front seat.
Windy and cold; the weather is turning to winter. I'm glad I don't ride horses for a living. Doolan Armstrong is my exercise boy's real name but they call him Tiger. Not sure why because he's quiet and elegant and says please. "She went well, did everything right, changed all her leads on her own, please" he said when he came in from her 2 minute lick which she did in precisely 15 second panels. The filly is great, out of her mind with the joy of training. Just wish the season wasn't over for her she's doing so well. Now to Cold River in Grand Valley to spend the winter in a wind swept hilly expanse.
At the races, once again no opportunity save one to talk with him who matters most. A few minutes alone by the front window but I was busy with Gail T's letter to C and C. Fraser. A wave and a hello and he was gone.