by Lisa Bicknell, CVT Editor
How was your Derby Day? Did you flounce around Churchill Downs in a flowery dress and a big hat while drinking a mint julep?
Perhaps you chose instead to observe International Garden Naked Day?
You’ll be happy to know I passed on that one too.
Instead I chose to spare the neighbors and wear my Carhartt shorts and a tank top, my work gloves and flip flops, and spend the day mowing grass, weed-eating around trees, shrubs and buildings, digging up perennials to share with a friend, cooking homegrown pork chops, green beans, and corn on the cob—busy at home and happy as a clam.
I did leave the television tuned to Derby coverage all day, and I gathered little snippets about the Run for the Roses as I was in and out of the house.
The weather was perfect for Derby, and the mood seemed particularly celebratory as folks were able to gather again for the famous horse race which did not happen last spring because of the pandemic.
I typically select my favorite horse after listening to feature stories about “the field” and their owners and trainers.
Because I was outside most of the day, I didn’t hear many of those stories. However, I made up my mind to root for Hot Rod Charlie after I learned that he was owned by a group of young men who bought a horse together as a way of staying in touch after college.
They seemed like fun young men with a close bond, and the horse was a bit of an unlikely candidate to make it to the Derby, yet he ended up with the second best odds. He didn’t win the race, but he placed third, which was pretty impressive!
I would have been rooting for Medina Spirit, but I missed the backstory about him until after he had won the Derby.
The horse was purchased as a yearling for about a thousand dollars, (about what you’d pay for an old sway-backed saddle mare) and later on for $35,000. That’s a very inexpensive thoroughbred, some of which come with million dollar price tags.
For this reason, I was happy that the little horse, who, as trainer Bob Baffert said after the race, didn’t know how much he cost. Still, he ran like a champ.
A few minutes after the race, my mom called and asked if I’d watched the Derby.
I was kind of expecting it, because she usually does call after the Derby each year and asks me if I watched it.
You see, my mom remembers how I used to devour the Black Stallion book series, and how, as a girl of about ten or twelve years old, I would avidly watch the thoroughbred races when they aired on a Lexington television stations before or after the news (My memory is a little fuzzy).
Tom Hammond called those races, if I remember correctly. Tom went on to do big stuff—such as cover Olympic sports.
My imagination was so captivated by the Black Stallion, that wild horse who went on to become an unlikely Derby winner, and my interest carried over to real races.
My mom read the books too, although probably not as many times as I did. She is one of the few people, maybe the only person, who really understood how much I loved them.
That’s a mom for ya.
They know things about us that we sometimes almost forget ourselves. They know our childhood dreams, our fears, and what made our tummies hurt.
They root for us through good times and bad. They know our favorite foods and how to prepare them better than anyone else.
At least my mom does.
We often don’t realize the extent of it, but Moms are the wind beneath our wings. That’s certainly been true in the case of myself and my siblings.
She’s not big on fanfare or puttin’ on airs, but our mom is special. She’s been our rock.
So, I just want to throw this out there.
Don’t forget the ones who raised you. I’m pretty sure they are thinking of you.
Happy Mother’s Day to all!