The Brahameister is back

The Master is back. No, I'm not referring to the fact that Richard Sims is back selling ads after his pre-Christmas break (although, if I were, that phrase would be very appropriate). I was given Dick Francis' come-back novel 'Under Orders' for Christmas, and I'm loving it. If one had time, it really is a book which one could just read straight through in one long sitting. It bears this phrase on the cover, and it is a justified claim. The Master is back, and he's produced yet another super novel. I thoroughly recommend it. I was very spoilt at Christmas. In addition to this book and to several lovely edible or potable (is that the correct word?) treats, I also received presents including a copy of 'The Secret River', a copy of Mark Johnston's biography, a 2-CD set of Clive James reading an abridged version of his recently-published fourth volume of memoirs entitled 'The North Face Of Soho', and a digital camera. All are excellent presents. Quite coincidentally, Bronwyn Farr had recommended 'The Secret River' to us when we stayed with her in Scone last month, so I'm really looking forward to reading that. Mark Johnston's book would have been eagerly anticipated even before James Willoughby wrote such a good review of it in the Racing Post. I love Clive James' prose (and, to a lesser extent, his verse), and count his first three autobiographical books as three classics, and regard 'Brrm, Brrm' as one of the funniest books I've read; so to listen to him reading his own work will be very special.

And the camera - well, I've taken about 30 shots already, mostly of the animals, including Giant, pictured here on her new saddle. Joff is a master of the digital camera, and when we were staying with him I was thinking I should have a similar pocket-sized one - and, lo and behold, I have one. It will be put to good use - including, most likely, on horseback - and, if I can master the technology to put pictures from it onto this blog - beware.

Even leaving aside the pleasures of receiving good presents, Christmas has been an enjoyable week. It's basically been a succession of Sundays, with the staff away, and all day to potter about the yard in our own time, getting the tasks done in a leisurely and relaxed manner. Aisling's been in most days to partner Lady Suffragette, who is one of the few horses being kept on the go through the period. Having a field to put the horses in makes it feasible to work things this way, because obviously it wouldn't be satisfactory just to leave the horses in their stables all week as they'd go stir crazy, although the field isn't much fun for people at the moment. It's dry enough at the top, but it's so wet at the bottom by the gate, just deep mud. Mind you, the horses don't mind, and just love to roll and get as muddy as possible. Particulary Millyjean, who I believe used to be a chestnut.

Riding out this week has been a particular pleasure when on board one of the others whose work remains uninterrupted, Pantomime Prince, pictured here with Emma, his new biggest fan. He's such a pleasure to ride, a real joy. Although I have to say that the joy wasn't unalloyed yesterday: Aisling and I (on Lady Suffragette and Pantomime Prince) galloped up the Al Bahathri about 7.20 am, and conditions were terrible. We're already a week past the shortest day, and I think visibility wouldn't have been too bad had there not been so much water in the air. But it was a damp, gloomy morning, and we caught a filthy storm while galloping so that one saw only marginally more by riding with one's eyes open (which was very uncomfortable) than with them shut. But our two lovely mounts got us from one end to the other in safety.

Racing on television, of course, plays a big part of Christmas (some viewers concentrate more than others, see picture). That's been great, especially Kauto Star, plus The Listener and Brave Inca - but it hasn't been a good week if one doesn't like watching French-bred horses win races. They've just won everything (OK, The Listener and Brave Inca are both Irish-bred, but they've won just about everything else). I was amused to see that about the only non-French stallion to make any impact was, believe it or not, Giant's Causeway. A pair of 4-year-olds won a handicap hurdle at Leopardstown and a novice chase at Kempton. I bet Coolmore won't mention that in their brochure. One sees so many four-year-olds winning steeplechases nowadays, and it was rather chastening to see the ex-Michael Jarvis Daylami four-year-old Pearl King, now with Philip Hobbs, win a handicap, not a novice, chase at Wincanton. Benedict beat him at Newmarket in a three-year-old handicap 19 months ago and, obviously while poor dear Benny remains forever young in our memories, it is just impossible to visualize his peers as steeplechasers.
Largesse has had another winner this week, which is great. A two-year-old called something like Blazing Darren - he's got such an awful name that I have a mental block about it and can't remember what it is - who won by three-and-a-half lengths at Wolverhampton. He had one very good run in a maiden at Newmarket for Michael Wigham in the autumn, and then won this maiden second up. He's now with Richard Hannon so I don't know what the story is there. He was ridden by George Baker, who was posting his 70th winner of the season, which, as George is as big as I am and kills himself to ride at 9 stone, tells us what a great jockey he is. If he could ride ten pounds lighter - basically if he was at least four inches shorter - he'd be champion jockey. I'm mulling on doing an end-of-year blog of tributes to those who have made a good contribution to the year as I see it and who are worthy of commendation, and George will definitely have to feature in that. Largesse will too, as he's had a cracking year with the minimal patronage from which he has produced his few sons and daughters.

Andrew Appleby has made a pretty good contribution to the year, too, but I doubt he'll make it into my end-of-year awards ceremony. If I've lost you by my sudden change of tack, he's the one who has a letter about the Stable Lads' Association in the Racing Post every day. He'll eventually be Aisling's father-in-law, so we saw him, plus the rest of his remarkable family, when we had a lovely evening - with quite superb food - at Aisling and Charlie's house on Boxing Day. He let slip there that the Racing Post isn't the only victim of his correspondence, so if you wish to see more of his missives, check out BBC teletext page 358 (or it could be 359 - just start at the cricket pages and keep going until you find the viewers' letters). Apparently, he has one in there most days. These ones are all about cricket. Basically he berates the England selectors for not including Shane Warne, Glenn McGrath, the Clarkes, Matthew Hayden, Ricky Ponting, Justin Langer, Brett Lee etc. in the English XI. That's the gist of it. I've an idea that I might put to him that he sends the cricket letters to the Racing Post and the SLA ones to the BBC. That would have everyone scratching their heads, which I think is his aim anyway.

Our other Christmas outing was to Gemma and Roger's house for dinner on Christmas Day. Gemma excelled herself by laying on a lovely dinner, which was truly excellent. Other culinary benefactors have included Alix Choppin, who returned to Newmarket from a Christmas spent in her native France with some lovely cheese for us - see Alix, I told you you'd be mentioned in this blog, so I hope you're reading this. (She stunned me by telling me that she reads and enjoys Emma's blog - she's even posted on it - but never looks at mine. That won't do at all).

Right now, bath time beckons, followed by dinner and a film I'm looking forward to, 'Mrs Henderson Presents' (I expect to fall asleep in the first half-hour, perhaps even the first quarter-hour, so I'll have the video recording from the start), so I best sign off. And cogitate on the year's achievers.