Rolex

Fish in My Hair said, "Man, I could blog a whole lot more if my family would quit bugging me to cook meals and do laundry, like they think I'm some kind of mom or something. Gosh!" and I have to agree with her wholeheartedly. I'd love to write more, and I only have a moment right now. I need to go wash off the barn smell of me and drive to Lexington to pick up my daughters who are spending the afternoon with cousins watching "Stadium jumping" at the Kentucky Horse Park's Rolex Competition. Dh is in Palm Springs, California supposedly at a business convention to which he brought his golf clubs. And me? I am with little Superhero mucking stalls. Something stinks around here and it isn't just me!

Speaking of Rolex, I did spend a little time yesterday watching beautiful, huge horses cantering around and going over seemingly impossible jumps. It was breath-taking. I'm thankful, however, that neither daughter is interested in this sport themselves, both because it would certainly take years off my life watching them, and because I'd never be able to afford it. The money that some people must have to participate in such an event!

While there, I watched as many people as I did horses. There was one group, led by a grey-haired tour guide I guessed. Now you have to imagine, it's rainy, you have to sit on the grass, most people were wearing jeans, barn boots or gym shoes, comfortable clothing, and ponchos (which makes everyone look slightly goofy). This group, with a very blond, expensively woman accompanied by two very urban looking men, one in dark glasses (it was overcast all day) stood and looked about. There was something in their demeanor that said they were not only looking at the horses, they were expecting others to look at them. They walked off, she with her arms hooked with a man on each side.

I suppose there was a very, very short moment in my life when I might have gotten a look, and was well dressed enough to feel good about the way I look. Nowadays, if someone looks my way its more like I look to see if I "stepped in it" or have toilet paper hanging from my backside. But these weren't early twenty-somethings. They were older. I just wondered who they were that they seemed to think they were "somebody".