Sorry?

The past few weeks has given me cause to evaluate the apology, and trying to judge whether the act of being sorry is actually genuine.  I'm not sure, on several fronts, whether I'm convinced, but I'm wondering if a certain being isn't actually trying to say sorry at the moment.  And not just sorry, but genuinely apologetic.  In that humble, pleading, abject apologetic state...  And whereas you might think I could be (quite rightly) speaking about a person here, the one I refer to is actually that beast I call the Weather God........

In my eyes, the Weather God has been utterly bloody the last couple of weeks.  Not just bloody, but utterly bloody!  I mean honestly, last Saturday at Randwick was completely uncalled for, based completely in malice, with no respect for me or my friends or my family!  A little rain we can cope with.  An absolute drenching, all night and then all day, including as I was out working in, was just plain nasty!  AND undeserved!  That's the thing about when people, or things, are completely bloody.  There are occasions where you think 'ok, I've been a warty toad, and I shall cope that one on the chin'.  And you can respect it as well when you get told that you've acted like a warty toad, and that someone's shitty about it.  What's harder to stomach is when you're dished out treatment that suggests you've been a warty toad, when you've done nothing of the sort!  Or at least been given the chance to hear why perhaps you've been a warty toad.  To which you might grudgingly admit ok, that was a bit of warty toad, or, you might indignantly want to claim that this is complete and utter bullocks, or just put that little lost and hurt expression on, while saying 'well, that seemed uncalled for.....'

Rain at Royal Randwick.  There was meanness afoot!

It's that 'what did I do?' question.  I can often be prone to that debilitating 'oh goodness, am I in trouble again?' anxiety.  And while the rational part of me knows that, on a big race day or stallion shoot that has been months or weeks in the planning, it is not just me is being affected, or punished, there are times when it's hard not to take it personally!  Particularly not when you can feel a certain snarly state beginning to take it's usual grip...

Absolutely (excuse the pun) covered in mud after AJC Oaks glory....

Atomic Force - Galaxy.  You could actually see water flying up of the track.

What's my point????  Well, on making the drive up from Sydney, on route to Scone, I had the huge soaking from the day before in the back of my mind.  I'd kept checking the Bureau of Meteorology site anxiously, to see whether the big wet that had hit Sydney was now maliciously tracking it's way north west and laying in wait for me in the Hunter Valley.  Those who know me understand that my head contains no natural compass, so I was completely unable, at any stage of my journey, to look ahead and say confidently that the huge stretch of dark grey clouds was in the opposite direction to my destination.  A sense of direction is something that I am sadly lacking in.  So my heart would periodically rise, then fall, as I journeyed along the highway.  But eventually, even though I kept telling myself not to get my hopes up, it began looking like the dark and menacing clouds were clearing.  The forecast was for 25 degrees and mostly sunny on Monday, so I kept thinking I had reason to feel mildly optimistic, however the pessimistic side in me, which seems to have been getting fed a little bit over the past few weeks, kept thinking that I had so much riding on this shoot and that this alone was bound to spell disaster.

But what I think happened was that the Weather God was actually sorry.  Truly sorry.  Abjectly and pleadingly sorry.  Realised he'd been warty toad.  And that there had been no reason for this, and that he'd acted completely out of malice and without thought!  And he gave me 2 whole days of being so terribly, terribly sorry.  And amazingly, as if to say goodbye, he waited until I left the farm before allowing the cloud cover to begin filtering through.  Which also meant that I didn't have to squint all the way back home due to my broken and now lost sunglasses, and the fact I'd been too poor to buy a new pair!

The big fellow, and undisputed king of the Australian Breeding Industry.  The great stallion Redoute's Choice.  He sparkled...

 

Manhattan Rain.  He won the 'warty toad' award this weekend.

Manhattan Rain

Manhattan Rain

Oh pony..  Please put your hair back on!  All of it!  Right now!!!!!!

Manhattan Rain

Manhattan Rain

Manhattan Rain.  During a break from being the warty one.  He's very very pretty.

Mush pony!  Go!

Not A Single Doubt.  Sire of my filly Karuta Queen.  He's still got it!

 

The King again.  Redoute's Choice.

Starcraft

And because I'm not one to hold a grudge, and because I like to assume the best in everyone, even warty toads, I just wanted to say thank you.  For the weather.  For the lack of wind.  For the gentle and lovely warmth.  But mostly for the gloriously beautiful light you gave me.  It was nice of you.  So thanx.......

"Chargey".  Charge Forward gallops in his paddock.  He was the last horse I did that day, after being on the go since 5.20am.  The light was glorious from start to finish.