Returning To Normal?

[gamble]

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain !
The rain as in Ian’s story above can sometimes point you in the right direction. The heaviness of it can encircle you in mystic awareness.

We owned a 12 inch menace back in the day. Not many in my class had one. My best friend had a smaller 9 incher, but set in a huge mahogany box. I remember when they first started broadcasting racing, it was only on a Saturday ( Even the mainly political Brains Trust was better) – I found it oh so boring watching the white rail and the small dark shapes above it occasionally changing places. Always long shots no close ups. My introduction to racing was due also to my father. I would look at any race for a few minutes in the paper, let my mind wander, and more often than not say the winner. He never told me he backed them but I kind of worked it out. One day I advised two horses and both won, 3-1 and 20-1. He told me that he could never mention my skills at the office as he said no-one would believe him. Put quite a lot of pressure on me – the short trousered one. It was a burden and I felt different from others. The goat secret that I shared with my mother was possibly worse though. She took it to her death – never mentioned it to a soul – neither her psychiatrist, nor mine !

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