Many of my loyal readers, such as Chuck and Dave and Rodney, just to name them all, are wondering what I've been up to the month of December. Well, as many of you know, I am not a card carrying member of the National Turf Writers Association (motto: Will write for Guiness Stout when Todd Pletcher is suspended), so it's not that I'm a busy gal casting my all too important votes for the 2006 Eclipse Awards. Instead, the holidays have befallen me and I am busy with all the festivities, i.e., decorating Christmas cookies, writing Christmas cards, having the family gather at my house for 6 days where they consume more beer and wine and assorted liquors than the infield crowd consumes at Chuchill Downs on Derby Day. I need to make a note to myself: Before I host the next family reunion, it is imperitive that I hit a Pick 6 or a nice superfecta so that I do not have to take out a home equity loan.
Anyway, as my loved ones all continue to enjoy the Homestead Cabernet Savignon and sing Abba's Fernando, my thoughts drift towards the great sport of horse racing and the meaningful question: Why haven't I been to the track in the past three weeks?
I have decided to rectify the situation immediately. Tomorrow we have tickets to the exhibition, Body Worlds, or better known as People in Plastic, I shall take these festive relatives to Lone Star Park where I shall conduct a short handicapping seminar in the Post Time Pavillion. However, since the seminar is being planned on the fly (okay, I just now thought of it and it may be the wine that is prompting this idea anyway), it will be doubtful if I can obtain Gary West and/or Rick Lee as a "trusty sidekick".
At least I will have some kind of material to write about tomorrow. Good.
I only have one bottle of wine left in the wine rack. Bad.