Friday, March 09, 2012

Password remembered

It's amazing what a spring clean can do. Amongst the old photos, copies of Boney M LPs and Betamax videotapes, I found this dusty old blog. Let's see if I can remember how to use it, in this age of iPhones and Twitface.

The last post was a lamentable tale of tragic loss. We still feel it a bit, that beautiful horse. But Omi now has a new steed, name of Riley. Almost a year to the day after Roxy died, Riley pulled a neat stunt of getting tangled in a wire fence, pulling a chunk of skin from his ankle right above the hoof. I've never seen so much blood, nor such a large vet bill. I've stayed in hotels less lavish than Riley's convalescence digs.

Riley is recovering nicely, but one wonders whether we are meant to own horses.

Some other stuff happened too. And here we are, in 2012.

Despite leaving the world of motorsports, it keeps finding me. 1986 Aussie Formula Two champ Jon Crooke has been trying to get me into his new hybrid motorbike-powered micro race car, the Hyper Pro Racer. MOTOR magazine, with whom I have had previous relations, were doing a spread on the car during a test day at the magnificent Bryant Park hillclimb track at Moe, a track dubbed "little Bathurst". It was here I was promised a drive.

But no- MOTOR's Dave Morley broke the test mule before I could drive. My consolation was to take my new XR6 around the track, at liberal speed. Jon had hired the track all to himself and you could do. whatever. you. wanted.

Here's the MOTOR spread, featuring photos taken from a lunatic/artistic genius lying in the boot of my car while I drove sedately around, trying not to kill him...

Friday, September 17, 2010

Roxy and Omi

I blogged about it, when we first got Roxy.. I wrote about how I tried to play hardball, as the family breadwinner, that we could not buy this horse until we sold the other one. I tried to play the stern, clinical, purse-strings-clutching father saying "no". But I couldn't say no to this one. There was something about her that I knew I was not meant to resist. And even before all of the beautiful women in my life (wife, daughter, mother) lovingly convinced me it was the right thing to do, I had already decided. She was a beautiful animal. She was just perfect.

Perhaps when the agony passes, I might understand. The agony that my precious daughter didn't get to say goodbye, because fate is so cruel. A holiday which was meant to free her from so much stress, to give her some relief, ended up depriving her of some final, brief precious moments with this dear animal. We had only just sent her off to what was meant to be a time and place of joy. Now it's been rudely invaded with more pain.

When the vet said those dreadful words, all I could think about was this. It isn't fair. Any other time but this. Can my daughter take any more blows?

Roxy was so beautiful, right to the last. She accepted it graciously, she didn't struggle. She lay down softly, looking up at us. But in her gaze she knew someone was missing. I hope she forgave us, if horses can do such a thing.

Dear Roxy, you were only in our family for such a short time. Maybe one day I will understand, how it must be remembered as nothing other than a precious, wonderful time. I understand that death robs us so much. But it's cruel and unfair that my poor Naomi didn't have the chance to start her grieving and sadness, by the side of this irreplaceable companion.

Goodbye Roxy. You were the best friend my daughter had. She was at her happiest sitting on your back. Right from the start, when I tried to play tough guy, you kept softening me up. You were just like all the other beautiful women in my life.

For my precious daughter, I pray that void will be filled somehow, one day.


Thursday, April 29, 2010

Why the media are stupid #2

Egads ! Since when were crimes considered illegal ??


Wednesday, April 21, 2010


I've invented a new term and simply had to share it on the blog... (since nobody in the real world gets me)

Here it is: "Passive anorexia".

It's what happens to you when you are dining with two or more nurses, and they are talking about their work.