(seen here with the other Claude, each finding that they share a dress sense as well as a name) ten out of ten for getting himself up from Devon for Emma's party, bearing in mind that he'd been away from home during the week and was due to go away again this week, and consequently didn't have a lot of time over the weekend to spare. But he made a flying visit by train (if that makes sense) to attend, sadly having to leave the next morning (his birthday) and consequently miss the second party. That was very good of him, but similar plaudits must also go to Emma's mother and four sisters, who all attended; in fact Carol, her mother, did very well, as she lives 600 miles away, and we enjoyed her company on both days. Several others made good efforts to be there, while of the people who live nearby I can give special awards to Claude Charlet and Fabricio Buffolo.
The 'Man of the Match' award ended as a tie between these two. Claude's nomination was earned by his trademark smile and by his cheerily circulating among the guests throughout the evening, putting everyone at ease and jollying everyone along with his smiling "Allo, my name is Claude - I am your waiter for ze evening - may I offer you another glass of champagne ... "; while Fabricio's star turn was as magician, putting on a show which revolved around a card trick and which kept everyone (correction, everyone bar two - and I won't name and shame them for their inattention because they had been kind enough to produce a cake for Emma) spell-bound for ten minutes. The highlight of his show wasn't even in the script: when unexpectedly heckled by one of the less well-mannered guests for the supposed lack of fluency of his English
(Fabricio, despite being Brazilian, speaks better English than most Englishmen), Fabricio (seen here being instructed in the finer points of magic by another of life's natural showmen) turned to the heckler with a smile and said, "I'm sorry - I can do this either in perfect Portuguese or in very bad English - you choose!".
Unbelievably, I stayed up until midnight on Friday. I didn't mean to do so, but I thought that I ought to stay up until the end of the party - but at midnight it eventually dawned on me that that wasn't going to be feasible, so I slunk away. As it happened, I think that the last revellers went to bed about an hour before I got up, and as I gave myself my usual early Saturday morning treat of watching a few Australian races on ATR before starting work I did so with a couple of sleeping bodies stretched out around me in the sitting room. Not even the excitement of the dead-heat in the Premiere Stakes at Rosehill at 6.05 could disturb their snores!
Sunday's party was fun too. It was attended by a lot of the people who collectively enable this stable to function - ie our patrons, plus the people who do the work - and if they enjoyed the occasion, which I hope that they did, they can take it as a way of Emma and I expressing our gratitude for their support.
We were so lucky on both occasions because the weather has turned good again. Not only was it warm and dry for the weekend, but it had been dry since the heavy rain the previous Tuesday, so it was more or less dry underfoot as well. Sunday's party really was one to be enjoyed by young and old alike, as this photograph of Conrad Harbidge baffling Eileen and Colin Casey and Anthony Berry with science demonstrates.
To change the subject completely, I can't write a chapter today without commenting on the excellent letter in today's Racing Post by our friend Scobie Coogan (Listed-winning trainer, ex-National Hunt jockey, breeder of racehorses and koi carp, saddler, singer, musician, song-writer, builder, entrepreneur, all-round brahma-meister) whose views on the current ideas on the marketing of racing were as sound as they were well-expressed. He must get some sort of award for that, as must Nick Godfrey for his current Racing Post blog entry in similar (but more sardonic) vein.
To continue on this tack, I must also salute Winning Post editor Tony Kneebone - seen here in January in the Quiet Man pub in Racecourse Road, Flemington, with my other Winning Post colleagues John (and Bill) Barker (on left) and Paul "Richo" Richards (on right) - on winning a nationwide tipping competition for the recently-ended season; and also Paul Haigh, formerly the writing star of the Racing Post, for his winning entry in a recent competition for racing articles. It's a pity that we aren't treated to the wit and wisdom of Paul in the Racing Post any longer, so it's good to know that he's still active.
And finally, while I'm saluting writers, I can't end without acknowledging the overwhelming kindness of our friend Peter Temple and of his publishers Quercus. Peter probably won't be very happy with my telling this story, because his kindness certainly wasn't looking for praise and I suspect that he will be embarrassed about finding it sent his way - but I'm going to tell the story anyway. As some of you might be aware, Peter writes the most wonderful novels, many of which have a racing thread running through them. When Peter heard about the misfortune suffered by Camilla Milbank (ie the injury which currently sees her confined, incapacitated, in Stoke Mandeville Hospital), he, completely unprompted, arranged for Quercus to send us some of his books in CD audio form for her, which was the most wonderfully touching piece of kindness to a total stranger as one would ever find. Then, to complete a remarkable quinella of kindness, Quercus, on finding out the reason for the dispatch of the CDs, sent on a follow-up package of CDs of audio books from some of their other authors. There are all too many stories of sickening badness in the world so, while Peter and Quercus certainly were not looking for praise, I hope that they won't mind me taking this opportunity to redress the balance a little with this story of heart-warming goodness.
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