The 138th Kentucky Derby Party

   I went to watch Maggie's track meet in Canon City with an agenda Friday. Forever the procrastinator, I had not gotten a derby hat together for the Plush's big bash Saturday. So I drove down a hour early and hit pay dirt at an used store on Main St. That parental effort made me a winner. First place best hat. It's a true gem. When my friend, Cyn saw it she said,"Carol you're going to disqualify yourself, right?"
  Maggie was the bookie, third year in a row. We are raising a smart and professional girl. I wonder if she can put that on her college resume?  I may want to mention here that we bet with millions, faux millions.
  Here's some snaps from the event. Thanks to my Kentucky friends, I now know the words to 'My Old Kentucky Home', for the generous good time....and helping to make a Yankee, like myself, a winner.
 

The cake.

 There was ham there was turkey there was caviar...

 and long tall balls made of Bourbon and y'all..

 Favorite poster

 Slick Eduardo Perran

 The bookie

 The esteemed guests, Freita and Gene

 The girls who call Kentucky home.

 Ms. Cyn

 Ms. Charlotte

 Ms. Maggie

 Barb and Todd

 Mary and Al

 Making hot browns, not to be confused with hash browns.

 photo bomb John

 Mary and Andrew

 Brittany and Jim

 Ms. Sharon, also from Kentucky

 Two birds in the hat is worth something in the bush.

 Ms. Tamra and Ms. Shelley

 Ron and Mags watched  a race.

 Mags took bets.

 An entertained room.

 Sharon's hat.

 The McDonald's,  always a hit.

 I am glad Mags will not come to this blog.

 Johnny is not a come lately.

 Bets

 Kwappy in on the action.

 Greg, Kyle and Ashley.

 Joe and Mags

Big fun.

 Right after the derby (11th race)

I love the hats.

 Ashly and John

 Relevant

 My kick ass hat.

 The back, from another hat from Building Better Bitches.
Disclaimer: the clincher.

 Hat winners, Denise, Cyn and me.

 Jersey design winners, Kyle, Ashley and Denise.

 Where does the time go?

 Kwapy walked away with so much loot, its criminal.

Ready for next year. Bring on 139. That is after Florida 10/2012.

The Rescue

Yeah, it's been awhile. I got sick of Facebook. Then I took up Reddit and got lost lurking there. It is so addicting, uplifting and funny.  I missed writing though. I have been writing in my head and typed this out this morning. The two year anniversary of finding our dog was yesterday.

  
The Rescue

My friend Sharon got the first call.
"We've found a dog, a puppy, under a car, what should we do?"
"Call Carol", she said. She knew I had been looking.
I knelt down to meet the scared pup. He peed. An arching stream of fear.
He had been abandoned, maybe. Evil things had happened to him, positively.
No one called to inquire to my reluctant ads. I could take no chances of breaking a heart.
We named him Bob, Dill and Pickles, finally settling on Jack.
Jack my dog.

He ducked the pets of men, skittishly dance around out-reached hands.
Locked in a kennel through our absence and night, full of silent fright
Eventually, his sad gold eyes won over our hearts.
Soon he was on the furniture, laying stretched out in our bed.

Schedules became dependent on his walks, trips to the dog park, Saturday hikes to the reservoir. 

Bags of gourmet biscuits, warm baths, cross-country practice runs, wrestling matches,

gluten-free dog food, camping trips were on the agenda, but he was worth more

He came around to men, but not to brooms. 
He is still the hungriest dog I have ever met, ignores off-leash commands, fights his way in bed.

Despite his stubborn and rebellious streak, my hand will never be raised.

He's had enough violence in his life before the rescue.

Before he rescued me.

   The good news: my daughter and my friend, Joe, have agreed to be my editors.  Please follow if you like, as a few followers have disappeared in my absence.