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So there we were at the sales, with Joe’s number of purchases, and my concerns, growing. Initially, we had been concerned about the huge expense that Joe would have getting these horses through the breaking process and the long length of time before they were ready to make their first start—the point at which there was at least the possibility of a return on his investment.
I remember coming in to the sales pavilion from my latest foray to the sales barns working my way down our list of possibles. I took a seat beside Joe, and I must have had a look on my face that expressed angst. Joe assured me that “he could afford it,” and since this was not his first foray into the racing business, I had no reason to think he didn’t know what he was getting into.
In truth, my concern was more about how Jerry and I would deal with so many horses to break on our farm. It would take much more in the way of employees than we had planned on, and good employees were hard to find. Not to mention, workman’s comp premiums would be large.
My concern grew when I met up with Jerry later, who handed me a release slip on a colt that immediately rang a bell.
“I thought we nixed this colt,” I said to my husband.
“We did.” He countered. “But apparently Joe decided to buy him anyway.”
We looked back at the colt’s page in our sales books-- by this point well worn and thoroughly marked—and compared notes. While this colt was indeed a big, fairly good looking individual by a currently fashionable sire, we had scratched him off our list. Jerry and I both looked at him, and both agreed that while we couldn’t put our finger on it, there was something just a little “off” about this colt’s movement. Something, though we couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, just wasn’t right, and these thoughts had been relayed to Joe.
It dawned on me then that perhaps our new owner didn’t have the greatest confidence in our abilities.
Daily Notes: As I began this blog, I promised to be honest in my failings. I have a BIG failure to admit, made more difficult because I have inadvertently drug my daughter down, too. Yesterday, we—Brit and I—had the opportunity to do a RAK, turn the other cheek and model Christian behavior, all in the same fell swoop. We didn’t do it. And I am feeling very, very small right now because not only did I miss this opportunity, I’m afraid I set a really bad example of pettiness for my daughter.
How human am I? I totally missed this yesterday, but God saw it all. He actually woke me up very early this morning (our one morning of the week set aside to sleep in) with this thought front and center in my mind. So I got up to make a note of it and post this blog before the devil could convince me that what I did wasn’t so bad.
I was also led to the following scripture in James 3: 13:
Do you want to be counted wise, to build a reputation for wisdom? Here’s what you do: Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts.
I remember coming in to the sales pavilion from my latest foray to the sales barns working my way down our list of possibles. I took a seat beside Joe, and I must have had a look on my face that expressed angst. Joe assured me that “he could afford it,” and since this was not his first foray into the racing business, I had no reason to think he didn’t know what he was getting into.
In truth, my concern was more about how Jerry and I would deal with so many horses to break on our farm. It would take much more in the way of employees than we had planned on, and good employees were hard to find. Not to mention, workman’s comp premiums would be large.
My concern grew when I met up with Jerry later, who handed me a release slip on a colt that immediately rang a bell.
“I thought we nixed this colt,” I said to my husband.
“We did.” He countered. “But apparently Joe decided to buy him anyway.”
We looked back at the colt’s page in our sales books-- by this point well worn and thoroughly marked—and compared notes. While this colt was indeed a big, fairly good looking individual by a currently fashionable sire, we had scratched him off our list. Jerry and I both looked at him, and both agreed that while we couldn’t put our finger on it, there was something just a little “off” about this colt’s movement. Something, though we couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, just wasn’t right, and these thoughts had been relayed to Joe.
It dawned on me then that perhaps our new owner didn’t have the greatest confidence in our abilities.
Daily Notes: As I began this blog, I promised to be honest in my failings. I have a BIG failure to admit, made more difficult because I have inadvertently drug my daughter down, too. Yesterday, we—Brit and I—had the opportunity to do a RAK, turn the other cheek and model Christian behavior, all in the same fell swoop. We didn’t do it. And I am feeling very, very small right now because not only did I miss this opportunity, I’m afraid I set a really bad example of pettiness for my daughter.
How human am I? I totally missed this yesterday, but God saw it all. He actually woke me up very early this morning (our one morning of the week set aside to sleep in) with this thought front and center in my mind. So I got up to make a note of it and post this blog before the devil could convince me that what I did wasn’t so bad.
I was also led to the following scripture in James 3: 13:
Do you want to be counted wise, to build a reputation for wisdom? Here’s what you do: Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts.
The Message
Yup, that’s right. I can yada, yada, yada, blog, blog, blog all day, but if I can’t walk the walk, it makes talking the talk all the more hypocritical.
Yup, that’s right. I can yada, yada, yada, blog, blog, blog all day, but if I can’t walk the walk, it makes talking the talk all the more hypocritical.
Oh, I found this pic of The Unbelievable in a workout at Victory Haven, with Sam in the irons. I couldn't resist posting it!
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