Hold Your Horses

Hello World,     Happy Mothers Day! There's no better time than the second Sunday in May to recognize with joy and wonder, our very own precious mother, and/or the kindly spirit of our dearly departed precious mother, and/or the contributions to our life by all of the many invaluable women that we have known, across the years and across the miles. They have all had an impact, and touched us in profound ways that made us better than we would have been otherwise, heaven knows. Speaking of new and improved, it reminds me of a recent circular from our friends at Home Depot, for something they call their Spring Black Friday sale, of all things, where they want me to hurry in and snap up one of their varied selection of bagged rock, and a bargain at a mere $2.75 each. Honestly, it really makes me wonder what our hardy pioneer forebears would think of us actually paying good money to buy rocks nowadays - as if the world isn't full of rocks all over the ground everywhere, and just there for the taking. George Washington would be weeping, if he wasn't already laughing his wooden teeth out at the very idea. Bagged rock, indeed.     Also on the new and improved front, after just a few very pleasant days in the neighborhood, the changes in our landscape have been dramatic. The lovely wisteria has busted out all over, wafting its welcome fragrance through the front yard with every gentle breeze. Meanwhile in the back yard, both of the lilacs have burst forth, bringing yet another treat for all of the senses. Underfoot is a carpet of lamium awash in sunny yellow flowers, and even the delicate columbine has put in an appearance after a challenging winter. Colorful azaleas have been open all over town for a while, but in our shady yard, they're just getting started now, in wonderfully bright shades that light up even the darkest corners and crevices. All of the delightful English wood hyacinths have continued unabated, in creamy soft hues of white, pink, lavender, periwinkle, and purple on all sides. The early bees have found plenty to their liking all over the property, and I don't mind saying that I agree with them wholeheartedly.     On the bracket side of things, both the NBA and NHL playoffs have gotten down to their final fours, with Boston, Cleveland, Houston, and Oakland in hoops, and (expansion darlings) Las Vegas, Tampa Bay, Washington DC, and Winnipeg on the ice. It would be amazing if the Golden Knights won the Stanley Cup in their inaugural season, but frankly, I don't care for their chances against the Jets all that much. On the other hand, I never expected the Bruins or Penguins to get eliminated early like they did, so I guess it just goes to show that anything can happen. And while it's easy to think that the Cavaliers are a shoo-in on the hardwood, let's face it, they've got to get through the Celtics first, and anybody who thinks that's going to be easy, can just go ahead and ask the disgruntled fans in Milwaukee and Philadelphia, thanks not. The playoffs, by their very nature, can truly be the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows - and while I understand that there's no way to keep the hometown faithful away from partaking of their favorite spirits, I'm of the strong opinion that the authorities in playoff cities should at least make sure that they can't go to Home Depot and buy bagged rock.     In other sports news, last weekend saw the 144th running of the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs - although in the interests of full disclosure, perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as the "swimming" of the Kentucky Derby, rather than running, under the circumstances. They say that 3 inches of rain fell on a soggy but festive crowd of 157,813 people, not to mention the horses and jockeys as well, and once again, thanks so very much not. A crowded field of 20 horses took off gamely from the gates into a pelting downpour, and a sloppy track more suited to mud wrestling than horse racing. The race was surprisingly clean and fast, considering the conditions, although I personally felt that it fell very well short of its famous slogan as "the most exciting 2 minutes in sports." In fact, the only real victim of the weather was poor Mendelssohn, the only European horse in the line-up, who was firmly bumped coming out of the starting gate, and then unceremoniously manhandled all the way to the very back of the pack with no way out, and went on to finish dead last by 73 lengths. I thought that was not a very hospitable way to treat overseas guests, and was certainly a kick in the pants to the whole concept of sportsmanship, and not to mention, chivalry. (Which, after all, is a word that is based on chevalier, an old French word meaning "mounted rider.") In the end, it was the favorite, Justify, who swam his way to victory, almost wire to wire, and nobody in the slop behind him even came close to catching him, in fact, he was pulling away even further at the finish. It became an ironic tell-tale sign that winning jockey Mike Smith, in pristine white silks, looked just as clean in the Winners Circle as when he had left the clubhouse before the race started, so that tells you something right there. The rest of the mud-splattered jockeys seemed genuinely happy to congratulate Mike on his victory, and I'm sure he will appreciate their gift of bagged rock, it goes without saying. Elle