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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-AU link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72"><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Long, but there is racing here, some more of Chrissy and a lot about Sophia, her family horses, and Pansy her Dad and importantly Baroness Mum<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Sophia Maria Anastasia Loretta was entitled, she thinks, her Mum was one of the landed gentry from Somerset, via Gulargambone, Merrigal and Dragon Cowal and her family, Mum’s mob, were very keen for her to accept the peerage, or whatever it was, so that their social aspirations could get a kick along. It affected your passport only these days, there was no money or land granted, there was an ability to address yourself, or announce yourself as somebody of somewhere and really, in the UK those were everywhere. Baroness Mum (let’s call her that) was hesitant however, she may have to renounce her citizenship here and become one of them and besides there were two properties in south Queensland, cattle and sheep, 3 in NSW, sheep, one of those the neighbour of a world famous sheep stud, so the location was spic, and times were tough in the sheep trade, lambs were hardly encouraged, and wool was badly promoted, being badly aimed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'> There were 7 shops, or their buildings because some shops were vacant, being repainted, one re-roofed after the veranda was removed, one of those was a hardware store, their go to bulk depot for items at buy in prices plus 1.7%. There had been two pubs, but they sold one, the ready seller to pay the way for the rest, and the other retained, her Aunty was formerly a guest at the sold place and was now a guest pest at the remaining place, which is making them money, what with the dole and everything.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'> There were 18 year old tractors, 22 year old Land Rovers, a Chrysler Royal with button gear change on the dash, three Commers, an Albion, and an Autocar and a work force of 29.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'> Dad had a plane, all those places had a strip, and Soph has done 100 hours and a lot more, unofficial, while Dad wrestled with the cheque book and papers, over there on the other front seat, her and her Victor Hotel, papa papa something. It was on auto-pilot, but I was the look out and that means somethink, Dad said, Soph said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Sophia and her sister were leaving to go to school in Somerset, King’s Hall she was hoping, but first to be tutored, to have their entitlement explained because it was the peerage of a foreign country, to her, me, and while the mother understood the machinations of it all there was indecision still. Her acceptance would mean the entitlement would pass to Soapy in due course, you had to do some time at the tiller though, live in the District and continue to contribute as the forebears had done to get the thing way back. It was for service to agriculture, helping the farmers of yore, introducing a shorter rotation over a smaller space, a French or Belgium trick transferred to green Somerset, more stock, more manure, and that manure over a smaller area, the stuff of dreams. There is a farm there, in Somerset, a sizeable holding by comparison, with stone wall fences, stone cottages, a lake and another in a quarry, sheep, it had been a stud but the government stud monopolised that angle, and they fatten lambs, and store sheep for wool, an Australian ex pat does the shearing and classing, there is a village on the corner of the block and a small RAF field nearby. It was much bigger, back in the day of top hats and horse and hounds but they kept the core, the south east facing downs and sold the rocky saddles and the peaty valley bottoms to their staff as they asked, now those small plots have changed hands many times perhaps and the manor remains, with the family ensconced. Foxes, and badgers, are troublesome and their man manages them, specifically how is not known to Soph, but she closes one eye, makes a trigger finger with one hand and holds an imaginary stock with the other and goes BANG. The manager and staff run that, and when they visit they live up the road a bit, the M5 at Weston-Super-Mare where her dad played football rather than do his degree at the Agricultural University and its where the adults met, in the pig barn. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>They had race horses, 12 of, and had success on the country circuit and occasionally in Sydney, in fact they had a good record there, the family trainer moved in with an on course trainer at Rosehill and they planned a few lead up runs, and a few tactics, to get the horses in competitive races. Mum and Dad flew to Sydney and went to the races, Sophia and her sister went too, not every time but, and if it was more than two nights away, almost never, they stayed on the place with Anne Gallagher, the accountant, played tennis, and drove trucks, one each.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Sophia father had been a good footballer, he played for Australia, and was playing for my team, the Thirds, but hoping for a promotion he said. He never came to training, except sometimes a Saturday morning run and talk about tomorrows encounter, somewhere, against paid players often. Our town did not have school teams, there was not enough boys at school, there was enough boys but some didn’t go to school, but they played in the town team and that was my association with them, playing, because training was an option also, and there was basketball one of those nights. The father was a break away and I was his prop, loose head, and over a year and a bit we worked a plan, he would snare and I would tackle, stop the ball movement there and the next would come in, two by two, one of those the lock and we would regain possession and the ball went through hands to the backline, and the permutations from there are endless. He stopped playing, sometime after I left the team to work away, but it was because he was the managing director of a multi-million dollar company, and a broken neck or something less, would hinder him. He played in the Firsts again at the end, if he came to training one of two nights at least, that’s the association rules, meant to stop the buying in of talent and it was his A game when he did.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>The races. Sophia asked me and Chrissy to go with her to the races at Coonamble, their stable is in a town near there. We went in the plane, there are 4 seats, and six of us, just enough room, we skimmed over the paddocks a couple of hundred feet up and the trainer was waiting when we landed. The three adults and Sophs sister went off in the first ride and they would return for us. They didn’t, so with the taxi going and coming we got a taxi and as we were under 16 years entry was free. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>They had three horses entered, a five year old maiden horse, a 6 year old mare who was too busy to stand still for a stallion, a dead set nut case, and Pasher, the stable name for a giant who liked to kiss you, smooch on your hair while you gave him a love. These three were in the care of one strapper, Stroppy, but Rhonda to me and the others, a red head, tall and in love with horses, like people personify dogs, calling them baby, themselves mummy, going with uh, uh naughty boy, well Rhonda and her horse were like that, personal, one on one. The trainer didn’t interfere, the feed revved the horses up, they were as fit as hands can make them, the jockey was the same for all three. The trainer had other horses entered today as well, owned by other persons.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>The mare ran and won, $270 prizemoney, this was Rhondas back pay from the trainer, the trainer and Rhonda may have had a little on the winner, they were laughing, him and Rhonda as the next horse was prepared, the stallion who was placid in the stalls but revved up going to the mounting yard so was bought back and taken through the process of untying and leading, then doing up the saddle straps and he was unaffected by all of this. Rhonda said to me could I put a bet on for her, and she gave me 4 20 pound notes. He was an Improver in a Handicap, and while I understand that now, it was poetry of the turf to me then, so I walked up the side of the bookie ring, along the back and I was looking for a face, anybody to assist junior here and I stepped forward to appear in the ring with a semi-circle of spruiking men on my left, and a three on my right. What do you fancy, board odds. I said I’m looking for somebody to put a bet on with, not for me but. The voice said, Funny we do bets, what would you like. 80 pounds on the fifth horse please. It wasn’t favourite, it was 5/1, there were two others shorter, and my bet caused the big man to lean forward and around to eye me off, sure, write it up. So they called it and wrote it and I got the cardboard thingy after they counted the dosh. There was some small talk, the bagman and me, there was not a lot of betting going on. The usual prying of how are you connected, it raced at Boomi last time, only one to finish, he’s been around a while, about time he buggered off to stud. So I said I was with the owner daughter and the strapper asked me to bet for her. I told him the trainer name, and in the same instant, there was a kerfuffle on the other side, money was arriving for our fellow. I looked and took it all in, I felt alive really, I was smoking too so that put some adult output into everything I had done. It won, it started a few points longer though and Rhonda said good mate, good on you, no, happy with the win, any odds is good odds for that. I gave her the ticket. We waited while the after race stuff went on and the horse was settled. Soph, Chrissy and Me got photographed with the horse, who is really handsome and we held the big guy while Rhonda went and got her money. She held it up to us, to me, lovely lolly she said, others had backed it too, one of those smacked her on the bottom, then they kissed, and not in a normal way. I laughed, Chrissy laughed, and Soph giggled. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>There were two races before out next entrant. We ate with the parents, a sit-down in a tent at about 3.00pm, I like pies better, Chikos more, and this was pink pork and Chrissy wasn’t touching that. We moved the food around, and eventual binned it. You had to present a plate to qualify for sweets, now you’re talking. Cake and cream, the chosen food of many after that previous calamity. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>We watched the entertainment, courtesy of the members bar, and sat up the back and side of the grandstand. It moves. The race before ours started and our jockey and two others came off, just after the turn into the straight, our man was on the outside and back a little it seemed, when the other two came off and one of those hit our mans horse and it veered right and the jockey went straight ahead, dove into the dust rolled and came up on his feet. There were injured jockeys on the track and some committee people running to them. There was no ambulance, there was a Doctor and a first aid kit, and they took a chair up there and carted one man back to the lawn, then through a gate and into a room under the grandstand. He waved and smiled with his dusty face and hands, and was all questions about who had won. The winner was unexpected, it was not fancied as they say, the favourites were beaten outright, and somebody associated with them was angry and shouted at the boy jockey, he was what 14 years and he gazed down at the ground while being berated by the angry man. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Pasher was next, he stood tall, head up, ears up, and moved as Rhonda put that strap on and the next one. Don’t pat him, don’t settle him mate, just hold him, click your fingers to get his head up and keep it up. He has to work this boy. So I did that, and when she was down the back left, fussing over something, I gave him a pat on his neck, asked him who’s a good boy then, and got a smooch on the head, true to form is Pasher. Please, mate, don’t, don’t settle him, he is all revved up as it is let’s leave him at that. If that is a revved up racehorse then the betting public should look elsewhere. Soph and Chris rock up, and there are hugs, pats and smooches, what are you going to do? Rhonda went to get the saddle cloth, numbered with a sand company logo advert on it, and we smothered that big horse in pats, and kisses.in affection. Sophs Mum came to us while Rhonda was again fussing, and Pasher was intent on eating her hat, that thing they wear. Chrissy commented on one as something that grew in a tidal pool, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>The trainer got Rhonda to walk Pasher into the mounting yard, and we went with them as far as the fence, then I got a position for us on the rail near the finish and the others joined me there, like a sandwich filling. The race was for a mile and Pasher was a chance, Rhonda was fairly confident, but backed another, the trainer said well he is in the race and when they do that they all have a chance, which I thought was wishy washy at best, yes or no is what is required. He did win the race, the trainer, but not Pasher, his 4/1 chance won it, with a boy up, but the stable benefitted. Sophs dad does not bet, he likes racing, and has a room with a wall dedicated to horses, and a wall to football too, it was widely touted that the winner would do just that and the second and third placegetters were a lottery also.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Pasher and the others, all the horses were loaded into a 9 horse float and left. Two wins were good, the trainer had three wins this day and 5 wins over the three days and the adults talked specifics and there were plans for Dubbo the week after next, or a city run, over some ground with a few horses in the makeup. The horse truck did a few trips to the airport, two for us six, and we had to get going as sundown was at 6.37pm and we must be on the ground by then, day time, night time rule, I think perhaps no night lights or something similar. We were, we were home before the night came in, it is still very light up there near the clouds, there was a delay in taxi-ing and queueing at Coonamble until somebody, I think the fuel man, organised us, pointed as in you go now, now you, go, and about 9 of us got out of there, north south east and west. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Chris was in the front seat and had a go, a fly would it be, moved the beast with her antics, she would be a pilot at a later time, her second choice aeronautically, because she intended to build them if music couldn’t be played, it was, she played in a band as her job.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>It was pretty much the Sophia and Chris day, they were good friends. Chris was romantically attached, to me, as it was then but as I wrote before she went to Sydney for school.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Sophia did go overseas and did the things she said she would. Mother declined the peerage, but stayed and got the firm back in the black with some good Australian pragmatism. She can shear and drive a grader and a dozer, has an accountancy degree after backing out of economics at University, likes cricket and was golf captain. There is nothing she cannot do, Sophs words about her mother.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>I have a fond memory of both of them standing on a horse, Sophs home gelding, Rehgih, it’s higher reversed but named for its Pakistani blood grandsire, while picking apricots out of the top of the tree, where the parrots hadn’t got to and throwing them to me to catch them in a hat and pass hatfuls to Miss Gallagher. They both fell into the tree and started a slow motion falling, sliding, gravity affected descent to the ground, breaking smaller branches on the way, to end up side saddle, both of them on the old horse, who had moved away marginally when the load went off, and moved in, automatic like when perhaps he realised he could be the star here. They were both wearing jodhpurs and riding boots and they both crossed their legs in time and had an apricot and a laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Sophia played tennis in long pants and served underhand, she was shiny white in her bikini, was at least 92% leg and if they had a head girl at our catholic high school it was her. The go to for spider removal, vomit collection, auditorium seating construction and deconstruction, toffee making and selling and picker up of confetti, the bane of the Nun, placating a demoralised child recently derided for misspelling antidisestablishmentarianism and one who chose me as a responding conversationalist, tennis partner, and general muscle, somebody to hold the chairs and desks up and accessible while she sprayed Pagets Approved Disinfectant, undiluted due a label misread, the Glen-20 of our era. Kills all it contacts, it says it there on the label, and I’m writing this.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Pasher had two more runs and was retired. He was to return to the spring paddock out at the marshes, a perennially green old folks home for horses, the earlier retirees. It is part of the 3<sup>rd</sup> station at Eenaweena and horses are taken there and introduced to the mob, there may be 30 there, not all mingling, apparently warm bloods can be stand offish and have to be supervised but they can be monitored, there is ground water there, it’s healthy regarding fly and nuisance level, a rug is never needed and when you go there they idle across to the laneway, not so much to see who it is, but to see if whoever it is has a lolly, a pat or a bad third choice, an apple or a carrot. Pasher was given to Rhonda, whose enthusiasm outscored her ability to keep him, feed him. It is a big horse and the feed has to be purchased, and the paddock rent paid. There was no hesitation when Rhonda asked for help before he suffered, he was thin but healthy and the other good thing was Rhonda got the job to monitor and to be the early educator of young horses and to be the machinery operator for the cotton paddocks otherwise. She has a van and a man so everything worked out fine. The stallion got sold and had been doing what stallions do but I am unaware of the results of that. Crazy Zara, the mare may have got tangled in a fence in one of her escapades, this one was dumping the track work rider and spending the afternoon in the shopping centre streets of Dubbo, defying capture until she was fenced in with vehicles and sedated and her legs lacerations examined. She passed out of ownership anyway at that point and suffered a name change, to be sold again and hopefully mellowed to become a girls ride, you’d hope but hard decisions come easy when money goes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>When I got a science prize at school and then my school certificate and my name was printed in the paper Sophia saw that in the UK, looked for it she said and wrote to me. She signed it Soapy surrounded by 9 kisses. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>It appears her parents lived apart, Pansy had a new girl and a new child and managed a smaller estate here in Australia. The Queensland places sold to cotton conglomerates from USA, and India, his father had bought them as prickly pear infested shitholes, and I use his words there, that corrected themselves when Cactoblastis overtook them and some remedial work was done, they became big viable cattle blocks but ended up under cotton. The shops were sold, as functioning business premises but country towns can be iffy, the hardware shop was retained and rebadged and really was the supply centre for the big concern, minimised somewhat as I said. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Enjoy<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Cheers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'>Tony<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div><div id="DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2"><br />
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