Birthday weekend

Yesterday I was rudely woken up in the morning by persistent doorbell ringing. Well, not so rudely, really: a wonderful arrangement of flowers faced me when I opened the door. More little surprises followed on my birthday, some of them pleasant (and almost invariably originating from Jod), some of them quite unpleasant (and all of them originating from others).

I am not the kind of guy who normally suffers from birthday blues and I had never felt any until the year before last. I actually used to truly enjoy my birthday, as it is all about me, me, me. The last two years’ mildly melancholic birthdays, I can vouch for that, are a result of external factors only.


Today was not much better. Then Tot invited us to the Capital racetrack to watch her horse’s first ever race. A first for me. Although my first reaction was “what?”, we went.

Track and view

A diverse crowd among the spectators: posh members of the Club, families, dodgy-looking fellows (in packs or coupled with Slavic-looking women), old ladies, youths with a shower long overdue. One could tell rich families from not-so-rich ones by the state of the wives’ hairdo.

As a guest of an owner’s, I visited the stables before the race and was impressed by the casual shitting horses are capable of but also, seriously now, by their splendour and grace and beauty. Indeed they are magnificent animals, as imposing and majestic as no carnivore could ever dream to be.

Then the race started and everybody was tense.

Coleur locale - Racetrack

The race is on

In the end, our horse came fourth — although it would have taken it only another 50 metres to come third. Anyway, I didn’t mind the 15 euro I bet on it, it was great entertainment.

Before parting for tonight, two more pictures from this realm of absurdity


and urban neglect


I live in.

5 thoughts on “Birthday weekend

  1. There’s nothing like some casual shitting and a gripping wager to enliven even the most melancholic anniversary of arrival on this planet. Despite your lack of enthusiasm for it, I’d like to wish you a (rather too late) happy birthday.

  2. Happy belated bday from me too. Believe it or not, I was thinking of you on Saturday. That was one of the days when I actually knew what day it was.

    I’m glad your day started with flowers — and ended with great entertainment. Once, I gave some flowers to my boss (it was one of those cases of not wanting to show up empty-handed), and one of my colleagues was quick to point out that it’s a major faux pas to give flowers to a man on any occasion.

    But I’ve always heard you can’t go wrong with flowers.

    All the best to you.

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