I was reading about the new reality tv show starting Friday night at 9 on Animal Planet: Jockeys all about a group of jockeys at Santa Anita.
Consequently I had a nightmare in which they're all coming for dinner and there's not enough food. It's very real. Jon's saying "Why didn't you make more butternut squash?" Eek, why did I cook so little?
But then I remember, in the dream, that jockeys have to keep their weight down, and besides, they'll probably be puking it all in the bathroom. Total logic in dreamland.
They were all standing in a row at the front door when I opened it, the reverse of this picture.
To try to get back to sleep I thought of who was in the dream and said their names to myself, a mixed up horse lover's version of the Mickey Mouse Club: "Chantal! Solis! Mike Smith!"
Actually we're going to some friends' house for dinner tonight. Hope they're not in the midst of a nightmare about us right now! "Sally! Jon! Hungry!"
9 comments:
Why do dreams have to be so frustrating? Can't we just have Never Never Land adventures? Instead, the clock is ticking, we're expected to do something, nothing works...
...why iis that?
Dreams are certainly bewildering. All that work your brain goes through to create such detailed scenarios. And for what?
Marvelous jockey photo---from where? Oh those nimble light speedsters, ambitious and ferocious and calm, despised and loved by bettors, and if they win, they keep on working. They smile at the shouted paddock insults much as they smile at the shouted love letters. Oh the money, oh pounding crush of it all.
Sally, did you take this amazing photo?
Most importantly, was there enough food for you and Jon this evening?
No, the picture is from the website, I just cropped out all the junk and failed to post appropriate credit. I thought it was a neat picture too, and was certainly what inspired that dream.
I love watching the jockeys too, the colors, the way they react to the crowd, as you say anon, and the thought of what they're about to do as they put their tiny feet in the stirrups.
We had a good time at the dinner, which was short ribs. They are one of my favorite foods and were cooked perfectly. Unfortunately the host knocked my wine glass as he set down my plate and it spilled all over me and my dinner. But I was wearing an old purple sweater and he fixed the plate up good as new.
Later we watched an exquisite film, a documentary of the 1962 Jazz Festival in Newport Rhode Island with Anita O'Day, Louis Armstrong, Jack Teagarden, Thelonius Monk and more. The audience was so beautiful in addition to the acts being good. Hip Americans in 1962 were something else.
Oh! Thelonius Monk is one of my favorites.
Thanks, I was wondering about getting that documentary from netflix.
stray, definitely rent it. You should too, Linda.
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