Thursday 7 March 2013

Resolutions not kept

As always, the days gallop away from me like a recalcitrant brumby. How do people keep control of the hours? Sometimes I swear I can actually hear the whoosh of time as it flies past my ear.

No lovely little bulletins on the wing, after all that. No swift aperçus, or witty asides.

I could, I suppose, tell you some of my Cheltenham thinking, that I woke this morning convinced that a treble including My Tent or Yours, Pont Alexandre, and Sprinter Sacre was the banker bet of the festival. Except I shall have changed my mind about that by tomorrow, if precedent is anything to go by. (I was slightly floored by meeting a gent today who backed My Tent or Yours at 20-1 ante-post, whilst the best price I can find is now 6-4.)

Instead, here is an entirely random collection of pictures. I was going through the archive for my HorseBack work, and I found this little collection, of sunnier days, before the horses grew their winter fur, when there still was The Pigeon, in the world. The world really is a poorer place without her in it. It still has many joys, and things to look forward to; I still wake at dawn counting off the days till Cheltenham like a child looking forward to Christmas. There is still a great deal of loving and being loved and good jokes and good food and good friendship. But even now, there is a gap, where the dear old Pidge once was.

Not at all sure how I got onto that. Was really just going to say Here are some pictures for you. Anyway, here are some pictures for you:

7 March 1

7 March 2

7 March 3

7 March 5

7 March 7

7 March 8

7 March 8-001

7 March 8-002

7 March 9

7 March 9-001

7 March 10

7 March 11

7 March 12

7 March 13

7 March 14

 

6 comments:

  1. Ah, The Pidge, I never met her, but I suspect my life might be always the poorer for that.

    My mother has been gone almost 32 years, since I was 25, and the hole she left may have shrunk with time, but never EVER changed its shape. It is a Mummy-shaped hole and there is nothing to be done about it. And there it is.

    Cheltenham will be huge this year, I have a feeling in my water. Get those bets on before the odds dwindle even more, for heaven's sake. I shan't be betting, so I really need to ride your coat tails...

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  2. Oh the Darling Pidge. I do miss her. x

    A beautiful selection of pictures - love the cows. :)

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  3. Those people and animal shaped gaps... All is as it should be I suspect.

    I can't do Cheltenham on account of a beloved person-shaped gap. Maybe one year, but not yet. I do so hope all who can, do, and enjoy. Oh, the hill, the roar, the ghosts of horses staying on up under the stands. Such glory.

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  4. Sorrow never goes away. You know that. You know, too, that the sun will rise and set, seasons will come and go and the loss of a loved one will remain there with you always. I know you know that.

    My grandmother died decades ago. I can't tell you how many times and in how many different ways I have dreamed of her -- all that was and all that could have been. Is it sad? Well, it would be a lot sadder if I didn't have those dreams.

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  5. Ohhhh, will you at Pidgeon's SMILE....?!! No wonder she's left such a gap; it reaches out to us all that adorable face and smile....

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  6. Oh! The hen, the hen! It's been a long time.

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