Mom and I drove to the rendezvous point to board the group bus to Churchill Downs. Oh, wait–I forgot the part where I backed into Mom’s carport post and broke the tail-light cover. Yeah, I did that first, and THEN we drove to the rendezvous point.
We drove down Queen Street to get to the entry gate, which is where Mom and I lived after we moved to the South End. Here is a picture of our old house (we think).
The weather varied between drizzling and flat-out raining, so I felt pretty confident that I would do well at the races, since I would bet the horses who had done well on sloppy tracks before.
Guess what? Most of the races were maiden races and most of the horses were starting for their first times, so I had no way to compare their records.
Here is a picture of part of the downs. Painted horses, one named Aristedes (first Derby winner) and I didn’t catch the other one’s name. Between them is a precious Storybook Style house. See the roof that kind of swoops and flips on the ends? I just love it!
At the end of the hall where we were, there was a fabulous display of glasswork done by an artist at The House of Colquhoun. Here is one picture, but there are better ones at their website, linked above.
Mom and I bet on the same horse in the first race, and won. She won a couple or three after that, but that was the only race I came close on. My horses would get up in the money, and then they would start showing off for their friends and run backwards. There were two women there who each won every race but one. They lost on the races when they told me who they were betting on, and I bet on those horses, too. One race, I picked first and one of the women said, “That’s who I like, too.” I pleaded with her, for her own sake, to pick a different horse. She did pick a different horse. Her horse won. My horse laid down on the track and took a refreshing little nap.
Not my horse
There was one race that only had four horses in it. They only allowed win and place bets, no show bets. I bet on one horse to win and another one to place. Neither one finished in the money. Four horses, I bet on two of them, and neither of them finished in the money. *sigh*
I took a picture of our tablemates, and asked if they minded if I put them on my blog. They said that was fine. So here they are:
D3m1 M00r3, M3ryl Str33p, B4ad P1tt, Br1ttn3y Sp3a4s and The Mysterious Madame X, who insisted nobody’s real name be used.
As we were exiting the bus, comparing winnings and losings, the man in front of me said, “I look at it this way–Somebody has to buy food for the horses. Today, it was me.” I like that attitude, and decided to adopt it, too. So Mom and I had a great time, good food, good company, and we got to feed the horses, too.
writing prompt: Send a character for a day at the races. If you’ve never been, go.