The blurb on the book cover: It is 1895, and Aimee Winters has been forced to leave her home in Tennessee for the wilderness of the Arizona Territory. Homeless following her mother’s death, she travels from Memphis to live with her father, a man she had believed to be dead. While teaching at the small school, she hopes to learn the truth of her past, but primitive living conditions, the reality and fear of many dangers, and Levi Raines, the handsome rancher who seems determined to make her go back East, make her question her decision. As she adapts to doing things “the Arizona way,” she discovers not only the secrets of her past but also the truth of her present.
The background: In 2013, my husband and I took my mother to meet up with my niece and her family and my brother in their vacation home in Strawberry, a small community in the central eastern mountains of Arizona. Strawberry sits at an elevation of 5,800 feet above sea level and is prone to harsh winters. Wildlife like bear, mountain lions, and elk still roam the area. Arizona’s oldest standing schoolhouse sits less than a mile from their vacation home, and it is open to the public at specified times.
I observed my niece and envisioned a 19th Century Amy living in such a harsh but beautiful environment, and when I visited the school, the story was born. Aimee, like my Amy, is tall with long, golden brown curly hair and warm brown eyes. Everything else about Aimee, however, is a composite of various women, including me. There is always some element of truth in fiction writing. I researched the area using a book purchased at the Rim Country Museum in Payson. Because the publishing company I wrote for back then published Christian books, my storyline involved people who were Christians yet also very human. Aimee’s faith is faltering due to her life experiences, something most if not all Christians can relate to.
The original book was published in 2017, but a couple of years ago, I requested the rights back from the publisher, and I revised the book. I made (hopefully) some improvements to the story and polished (in my opinion) the sentence structure and grammar. Then I self-published it on Amazon as an ebook and paperback.
The paperback is in large print. The reason? Many fans of the book are older ladies. They relate to some of the chores that remind them of their growing up years on small farms, and they like the clean storyline that is innocent when compared to most secular books published today.
Kind of like Janette Oke books. You know, When Calls the Heart and themes like that. If you like her books, maybe you’d enjoy mine.
I like to think the story is timeless because it is set in the past. A contemporary book written in the year 2000 seems dated because of no cell phones, no advanced technology, and no social issues that make up modern life. A historical book, on the other hand, is timeless. You can’t go back and change history. Well, I guess in a book you can, but you know what I mean.
I have to admit I loved every moment of writing this book. The characters were and are very real to me. It is almost as though they were my ancestors. Those characters still live in my head.
I’ve considered writing a sequel, but I’m going to leave it alone. Let the reader’s imagination determine what happens to Aimee. Let the reader’s personal beliefs and experiences chart her destiny.
If books by people like Colleen Hoover are your favorites, don’t bother to read this book. If you love Danielle Steele, don’t read this. If Fifty Shades of Gray (I’ve never read it nor have I watched the movie and never plan to do so) is your idea of great reading, leave my book alone. It doesn’t contain what you’re looking for.
But if Hallmark movies and series bring you joy, and if you still like to read books by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Lisa Wingate (oh, how I wish I could write like her–my favorite author), you might find Aimee to be a good read.
It is my hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
When I was growing up, I had three dreams that lasted well into adulthood: I wanted a dog (my parents wouldn’t allow me to have one), I wanted to own a ranch someday, and I wanted to be a writer.
Pretty simple, right? I didn’t have dreams of being a famous model or actress (well, I did for a short time like a lot of girls in middle school), and no doubt my dream of owning a ranch someday was totally unrealistic due to the fact my family did not own land nor did we own horses, but that didn’t change the fact that I loved the idea of it. No wonder I loved Janet Dailey’s Calder series.
In adulthood, our family has had two dogs, sweet Sable and our current dog Draco (the shelter had already given him that name and when we got him at seven months old, that’s what he responded to), and my joke is that with him I got a horse-dog because of his size. He’ll be five next month. All 70 pounds of him.
I never got the ranch, nor did I even spend time at a dude ranch at any point, something I regret. I don’t want to go now because I don’t want to chance getting hurt on a horse, but I loved the opportunities I had of riding horses belonging to friends or paying to ride at public stables.
As for the writing…well, you see how that is playing out. Not a best-selling author and not huge sales, but with the technology we have today, I am able to continue that passion. I love to write, whether fiction or non-fiction. And while I would love to make some money at it, I’m okay with just doing it because it’s something I love to do.
It’s like you sports people, those of you who grew up playing sports. Maybe you aspired to be good enough to get a scholarship to college or even to go straight from high school to a professional baseball team, but the high number of would-be professional athletes is tiny compared to the number of college athletes. Some who aspire to greatness achieve it. Others indulge in their love of sports by coaching or being passionate fans.
We all pursue what interests us.
There aren’t many perks to being “a certain age,” but one perk, in my opinion, is being able to look back on my life and realize that it’s okay to have achieved just one of those three childhood dreams–the dog thing. Have I mentioned I love dogs? And our oldest son is a dog magnet. They sense his attitude toward them.
But that ranch dream…unless I could have been wealthy enough to pay lots of hired hands, it would have been a grueling seven-days-a-week obligation. No rips to the beach. No trips anywhere. The vet bills, the reality of mucking out stalls and cleaning hooves and the ongoing expense…I’m glad that dream was never realized.
I know I’ll never be a best-selling author for many reasons, but if just a few people read what I write and enjoy it, I’m good with that. I always have story ideas spinning in my mind, so maybe one day I’ll be able to achieve some real success in that endeavor. To me, there are no negatives about writing. I love the whole process, including re-writing and editing and meeting deadlines for the publisher.
Maybe you can relate. Maybe your childhood dreams dissipated like the early morning fog as the sun comes up, and maybe you’ve found other ways to pursue your interests. And for the few who achieved their childhood dreams, I have this question: Was it what you had hoped it would be?
You may be wondering about the horse in the picture. This is the photo for my Facebook profile, and it was taken in July of 2024 when another couple and my husband and I did a quick trip to Lexington, Kentucky, where we toured a racehorse breeding farm. Claiborne Farms in Paris, Kentucky. The guided tour was about an hour long, and it was fascinating.
I fed a peppermint to two of the horses. This particular horse is worth–brace yourself–$85 million. That’s right, $85 million. The other horse? A mere $11 million. I doubt the quarter horses I planned to have on my dream ranch would have been worth anything close to that. And no matter how you feel about horse racing, you have to admit those animals are beautiful.
Wisdom gained as we age is a blessing. It helps us to appreciate what we have instead of what we don’t. It helps us to accept compromise and change. And it gives the ability to have peace and acceptance of whatever our situation may be, not to mention the joy we have in enjoying the adjusted versions of our goals and dreams.
I was going through some old documents and deleting what I no longer want to keep and found this short story I wrote seven years ago. If you choose to read it, I’d love to know what you think happens to Hope after…well, if you read it, you’ll know. I have my own idea of the kind of person she is. I’d love to know what you think. And maybe, just maybe, you have been a Hope or a Callie.
Love and Hallmark
“That kind of love doesn’t exist, Hope. You’re delusional because of those cheesy Hallmark movies you watch all the time.”
I stare at my best friend over the rim of my coffee cup. Callie doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but I understand why. Her mom’s been married and divorced twice and is currently dating a “prospect.” Her dad’s only been married once – to her mom—but he’s had a series of live-in relationships. These days he’s with a tall, too thin woman only five years older than Callie.
“You’re just jaded, Callie. It’s not like that for me.”
“Jaded?” She arches a perfectly crafted eyebrow. Everything about Callie is perfectly crafted, from her blunt cut red hair that just brushes her shoulders to her airbrush quality make-up to her sleek black and white dress that probably cost more than most people earn in a week. I guess there are some perks to having rich parents who try to buy their way out of their guilt.
I can’t imagine. My parents stopped paying my expenses when I landed my first full-time job out of college. I get it. My two brothers are still in high school, and my folks are teachers. Rich, we’re not.
“Yes, jaded, cynical.” I take another sip of my Starbucks caramelized honey latte, my weekly Friday morning caloric and financial splurge.
“I know what jaded means. And I’m not jaded. I’m a realist.” She shakes her head. “There is no such thing as forever love or love at first sight. Lust, maybe, but not love. And no love lasts forever.” She snaps her fingers. “Something goes wrong, and it’s over, just like that.”
My parents have been married almost thirty years, and sometimes they’re so lovey-dovey it’s disgusting, but I’ll take it over what Callie has. All four of my grandparents, married to the same person for over fifty years. I don’t just think it; I know true love is real.
“You’re wrong, Callie.”
Callie gives me that smile that says, “I love you, girlfriend, but you are so naïve.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am naïve. Maybe I should have been born in the fifties instead of the nineties. Maybe the modern world is just a too modern for me.
“I need to get to work.” I stand and pick up my drink to finish on the short walk to the financial firm where I will spend my day juggling numbers.
“Me too.” Callie follows my lead. The men in the coffee shop stare as we walk by, but they’re staring at Callie, not me. I’m a mere shadow. She’s tall and curvy in all the right places. I’m average height and maybe five or ten pounds over average. She has amazingly green eyes to go with that dyed-red hair. My brown hair and brown eyes fade in comparison. She’s extraordinary. I’m . . . ordinary.
We part ways at the law office where she works as a paralegal, and I continue another couple of blocks to the skyscraper I have worked in for the past two years. The security guard smiles at my usual greeting but doesn’t say anything as I show my ID and head to the elevators.
My heart skips a beat. He is waiting for the elevator too.
The doors open, and we step inside, just the two of us. This has happened before, and we usually make small talk, the kinds of things co-workers say when they think they have a connection just because they work for the same company.
“Morning.” He nods his head at me as the doors close.
“Good morning.” I search for something to say. Talking about the weather is too mundane. What can you say? It’s July, so it’s hot. And humid. And maybe there’s a chance of an afternoon thunderstorm.
“Casual Friday for your department?”
I look down at my dressy jeans, black high-heeled sandals, and turquoise, black, and white top that Callie insists shows off my best feature, my olive skin. “Yes, it is for us every Friday.”
“Wish it was for us. I’m in meetings all day.”
He’s wearing a navy suit, white shirt, and light blue tie that make his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle.
“Too bad.” I smile, then take a sip of my lukewarm latte. Callie has told me I have a beautiful smile. I don’t think so, but ever since she said that, I find myself smiling a lot more than I used to.
“Yeah, too bad.” He grins, and my heart lurches. He’s looking at me, really looking at me, like maybe he likes what he sees. “The place I worked before had casual dress every day. The past month here has been an adjustment.”
No wonder I hadn’t noticed him before June. He’s new. “What department do you work in?”
“Investments. Pretty interesting.”
High pressure too. I wouldn’t want the responsibility. “I work in accounting.”
The elevator stops on my floor, and I step out, wishing I could stay longer. “Have fun in your meetings,” I say, then want to shake myself. How lame.
He laughs. “Thanks. Have fun crunching those numbers.”
I feel better at his equally lame reply. The door closes, and I head to my cubicle. A few co-workers wave as I go by, but everyone is already focusing on their duties. Casual Friday it may be, but the work is constant, with no let-up. It’s because the company is growing so fast, our manager says, which is good for all of us. Bonuses, pay raises, all sorts of good things will happen if we keep it up.
I sit down and log in to my computer.
“Hi, Hope.”
Derrick is smiling at me. He works in the cubicle across from mine, but we can’t see each other untless one of us stands up.
“Hi, Derrick.”
“TGIF, especially with having Monday off for the fourth.”
I repress a sigh. He always tries to make conversation, but he’s not very good at it. I know Derrick is interested in me. He has never said anything, but a girl can just tell. He’s a nice guy. Good-looking enough, too, with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes, although he’s a little stockier than I like. Not tall and muscular like the hunk in the elevator. I wish I knew Mr. So-Handsome-He-Could-Be-A-Movie-Star’s name, but he never wears a name tag, at least not when I’d seen him.
“Yeah, a three-day weekend will be nice.” I click on the program I’ll be using for the next hour or so. Derrick is still standing there, like he wants to say something else. “Did you need something, Derrick?”
He blinks. “Do you have any plans for the fourth?”
No, I don’t, but I don’t want to tell him that. I’m a little more than unhappy that my parents and brothers chose this week to go on their annual vacation with my grandparents to Gulf Shores. Too far to be worth my while to take the time to drive and too expensive to fly. Besides, my own vacation is in two weeks. Callie and I are flying to New York. I have scrimped and saved for a year to be able to go.
“Nothing special,” I hedge. “Just the usual. What about you?”
“The usual.” He hesitates. “A day at the lake water skiing. Want to go along? About seven or eight of us in three boats. We eat at a restaurant on the lake, watch the fireworks at dusk, then head home. Interested?”
It’s my turn to hesitate. Usually I spend the fourth at home with my family, so I had lied to Derrick, which makes me feel bad. This year, though, the fourth will be nothing more than sleeping in and spending the day alone. Callie is going to her dad’s. She invited me to go, but I turned her down. Her dad creeps me out. Fifty and shacking up with a thirty-year-old. No doubt she’s in it for the money, but the visual images that their relationship brings to my mind. . . yuck.
I am tempted to say “yes.” I love to water ski, and a holiday alone is not appealing. I hear myself saying, “Sounds like fun.”
I regret the words as soon as they slip out, but it’s too late. Derrick’s eyes light up. “Great. Want me to pick you up or meet you somewhere?”
I don’t want him to know where I live. “Can we meet up at the riverfront park?”
“Sure, how about nine? I’ll be in a white Dodge Ram.”
I should have known he drives a truck. He has “country boy” written all over him. I bet he really knows his way around a Bass Pro Shop.
“Looking forward to it,” I lie. I know lying is wrong, but I think lies that keep from hurting other people are okay, so I don’t feel guilty. Unless my agreeing to go to the lake is leading him on. A guilt attack hits.
I shove the guilt aside and go through my workday. When I leave at four-thirty, I don’t see Mr. Good Looks anywhere. It’s just as well. Seeing him would make me regret Monday even more.
Saturday and Sunday pass too fast, although I don’t do anything special. I can’t wait for Monday to be over, and I spend half my time trying to come up with an excuse to back out. Why, oh, why did I accept?
Sunday night I get over my anger with my parents enough to call Mom. She had texted me when they got to Gulf Shores and told me it was raining. I hope it rains there all week.
“Hi, hon, how has your weekend been?” Mom always sounds so cheerful. Despite myself, my spirits lift at the sound of her voice.
“Okay. Did my morning run yesterday, some window-shopping at the boutiques in midtown, and treated myself to pizza last night. Today I’ve been lazy, watching a movie right now.” It’s one of my favorites, when a big-city girl goes to a small town to take care of her grandmother who is recovering from hip replacement, and the girl falls in love with a guy who owns a bed and breakfast. Of course, she decides to leave the big city and run the B&B with him. Callie says they divorce two years later when she is bored out of her mind and ready to go back to the city. I prefer to think they have a kid on the way.
“What about Callie?”
“Remember, Mom, she’s at her dad’s.” Mom never retains what I tell her.
“Oh, that’s right. Are you lonely?” She’s worried, I can tell. Good, she should feel bad for leaving me in the lurch on a holiday weekend.
“A little. But I’m handling it.” I put just the right amount of bravado in my voice.
A pause. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it has rained every day since we’ve been here.”
I grin. Yep, I do feel better.
“I’m going to the lake with a co-worker and some of his friends tomorrow.” Oh, no, I said the word “his.” Now she knows it’s sort of a date.
“Oh, that’s good!” She’s almost gushing, and I frown. Her guilt hasn’t lasted nearly long enough. “Who’s the guy?”
“Derrick . . .” I don’t even know his last name. “He works in the cubicle across from mine.”
“So, what’s he like?”
“He’s okay. Mom, don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested in him. It’s just something to do.”
“Well, have you met anyone you are interested in?”
Before I know it, I’m telling her about the elevator guy. “There’s just something about him. I’ve never been attracted to anyone like I am to him. I guess it’s how you must have felt about Dad.”
Mom is quiet for a moment. Then she laughs. “Hope, what makes you think it was love at first sight for your dad and me?”
I frown. “Well, Dad always says he knew right away.”
“Maybe he did, but I didn’t.” Mom is still chuckling. “He pursued me, Hope. I was interested in Ben Chambers, a boy I dated for about six months. When we broke up, I was heartbroken and wasn’t interested in dating anyone else for a very long time. Your dad had a crush on me for at least a year before he got up the nerve to ask me out.”
This is the first time I’ve heard this. My mom dated someone else besides my dad? Not only that, she had really cared for someone else? Makes sense, but I still don’t like it. Dad probably had a girlfriend before Mom, too, now that I think of it. After all, they were in their early twenties when they married.
“You never told me this. So how long did it take before you knew that Dad was the one?”
“Several months. I liked your dad, liked him a lot, but it wasn’t right away.” She pauses. “Be careful, Hope. Don’t shut out the possibilities. I fell in love with your father for many reasons, but maybe the most important reason of all was because he loved me and treated me well. He’s solid. That’s what I want for you. Someone who will love you and treat you like a queen, someone who will stand by you. That’s true love, Hope. Not what you see in those Hallmark movies.”
My head is spinning. “But I want that kind of love.”
“You will have it. Believe me, I wouldn’t have married your father if I hadn’t felt that way. But it takes time. It doesn’t have to be love at first sight.”
It doesn’t have to be love at first sight, I remind myself the next evening when Derrick drives me home. I’m exhausted, but in a good way. Derrick’s friends were a lot of fun, and I spent hours on skis. I probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow, I’ll be sore, but it was worth it.
But now the day is over, and I know Derrick thinks we’ve been on a real date. That means he might be expecting something, at least a good-night kiss. Me, I’m not feeling it.
He pulls into a parking space and turns to face me. “Well, here we are. I had a great time today.”
“Me too.” That’s true. I’d had a great time, but I would have had just as good a time with Callie or my brothers. “Thanks for inviting me.”
He has a strange look on his face. I can tell he doesn’t know what to do, so I decide to help him out. I reach for the door handle. “See you at work tomorrow.”
Before he has time to get out and open the door for me like he’d done earlier, I hop out.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” I can see the disappointment on his face, and I feel like a heel. But wouldn’t it be worse to make him think I’m interested?
I get in my car and make the short drive to my apartment. I want to slap myself. Why can’t I be attracted to him? He’s a nice guy, seemingly solid, like Mom said. Not like Mr. Wonderful, but maybe Mr. Wonderful is not so wonderful. Not so solid. He might even be engaged or married.
When I get home, my head talk continues. By the time I go to bed, I have convinced myself that I was stupid to shut Derrick out. I need to give it time, get to know him.
I dress carefully for work, my olive skin just a shade darker after my day in the sun. The coral blouse and tan pants look good on me, I must admit. Maybe Derrick will think so. Then again, maybe I don’t care what he thinks.
When I enter the building, no one is in the lobby. I press the “up” button and tap my foot while I wait. What am I going to say to Derrick?
“Good morning.” My tapping stops, and I look to my left. Mr. Gorgeous has arrived.
“Good morning.” I give him my best smile.
He smiles back. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
I laugh as my heart skips a beat. “Or at least introduce ourselves.”
“Good idea.” He extends his hand, and we shake. His warm skin sends shivers up my arm. How is that even possible? “I’m Kyle Patterson.”
“I’m Hope Stone.”
“Nice to meet you.” I like how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “How long have you worked here?”
“Almost two years.” The elevator doors open, but we remain standing there as two other employees brush past us. I don’t miss the questioning looks they give us, but I ignore them. The elevator doors close.
He nods. “I thought you looked like a seasoned veteran. Me, I’m just a small-town guy working his first big-city job. Exciting, but I’m still learning the ropes.”
“It’s a good place to work.” I’m at a loss for words, but at the same time, I don’t want the conversation to end.
“What time do you go to lunch?”
I don’t usually eat lunch in the cafeteria on the main floor. My usual lunch is a peanut butter sandwich in my cubicle while I check Facebook and Pintrest. “At twelve-thirty.”
“Want to meet up in the cafeteria? I can go to lunch whenever I want.”
“Sure, sounds good.” It sounds better than good. It sounds great.
He pushes the “up” button, and the doors open immediately. We step inside and make inane small talk. The ride to the fourteenth floor ends too soon. When I step out, he says, “See you in a few hours.”
“See you then.” The morning is going to drag.
Derrick is not in his cubicle, so I’m spared the awkwardness of greeting him, at least for now. The morning goes by faster than I thought it would, and before I know it, it’s time to head downstairs to the cafeteria.
“Where’s Derrick?” I ask Miranda, the receptionist on our floor.
“He got a promotion. Friday was his last day in our department.”
I’m stunned. He hadn’t said a word about it. Heat creeps up my neck. He’s been here less than a year. Our degrees are the same. A promotion already?
Miranda goes on. “You did know he’s Mr. Jensen’s grandson, didn’t you?”
The founder of the company? I shake my head. “I had no idea.”
Miranda sighs. “I’ve been trying to get him to notice me ever since he got here, but no luck.”
I frown. “He told me he was from a small town.”
“He is. His parents divorced, he was raised by his mother.”
Miranda sure knows a lot about Derrick.
My thoughts are spinning as I make my way to the cafeteria. I’m a fool. I had a nice guy and heir-apparent to a multi-million-dollar business interested in me, and I had shut him out because of a schoolgirl crush on a guy I know nothing about.
Kyle is waiting for me, his coat unbuttoned, standing with one hand in his pocket, looking like a manly version of a catalog model. Much more manly. My knees turn to rubber as warmth spreads all over my body. He gives me a lopsided grin, and all thoughts of Derrick flee.
Callie’s warnings to be careful with my emotions are screaming in my head, but I don’t care. No doubt in my mind, this is love at first sight.
Then I see another guy standing next to Kyle. I keep my smile plastered on my face.
“This is my cousin Lucas. He works in the building next door.”
I’m confused, but I nod and say something appropriate.
“Kyle has been telling me about you,” Lucas says. “I’m an accountant too.”
I stare at him and then at Kyle, who has headed toward the food line. So, that’s what this is. A set-up. Kyle’s not interested in me. He thinks I’m a good match for his not-nearly-as-good-looking-and-much-shorter cousin.
“Oh.” I can’t help it. My smile fades. I’m crushed. Lucas clears his throat and looks away. I pull myself out of my heartache enough to feel a little bad for him. “So where did you go to school?”
He looks encouraged, but I know there’s no future here. Lunch is going to be awkward.
I think I’ll text Derrick later. I really should congratulate him on his promotion. Tell him I miss him being in the cubicle across from me. Thank him again for a great time yesterday.
I can see it all now. Small-town girl dates heir to a fortune. She’s hard to get at first, but he wins her heart. They marry and live a good life.
July 2024 at Claiborne Farm in Paris, Kentucky. I am feeding a peppermint to a retired race horse worth…wait for it…$85 million.
That’s right, $85 million. Just ten minutes prior to this I had fed a peppermint to his grandson worth $11 million.
I am not a proponent of the gambling involved with horse racing, but I do love the drama of the Derby, the build-up of talking about the horses, the two-minute race that keeps you on edge wondering if the horse you think will win actually does. And I love horses.
Last summer, some friends called to see if we wanted to make a quick trip to Lexington, Kentucky, with a stop at Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace and childhood home in Hodgenville, Kentucky. It was a great trip, one of those unexpected surprises when you really have no particular expectations and end up having a great time.
Claiborne Farm is a breeding farm and is the location of Secretariat’s grave. When a race horse’s career is over at a young age, he is then used for breeding. Our tour group was small with an in-person guide instead of the usual audio or iPad device, and we were able to ask questions as we walked from barn to barn. The walk was an easy one, nothing long or strenuous, and for a gal like me who longed to live on a ranch even into adulthood, it was extra special.
I learned that normally only three parts of the horse are buried–the head, the heart, and the hooves. In Secretariat’s case, though, the entire body was buried. We had seen the movie, but hearing about the famous racehorse prompted us to watch the movie again after we returned home and to pull up all three of his races that were a part of the Triple Crown on YouTube.
We also went to the Kentucky Horse Park where we saw more horses along with demonstrations, but the highlight for me was seeing the skeleton of Lexington, the horse on which Geraldine Brooks’s book Horse is based. Everyone knows that is my current favorite book. Like some of Lisa Wingate’s books, I listen to it at least once a year. I have blogged about it before, so go back to my previous blogs and look for a photo of Barry and me standing in front of a horse skeleton.
I told our friends that we would get together for the Derby in May 2025. I would make Kentucky Hot Browns, and we’d watch the race together. No, no large hats and no mint juleps and no wagering, but we’re going to do it. I’ve never made a Kentucky Hot Brown before, so this could be interesting.
And I’m going to share something about me. I seem to have an uncanny ability to pick the winners. My pics are often against what the odds makers say. No, I’m not going to post my picks so you can bet on a horse I think will win. But I want to see if my streak holds out. I don’t study the horses in advance. I just watch the preliminary information then watch each horse as the jockey rides it to the starting gate. That’s when I make my decision.
Will I be right this year? I’ll find out on Saturday. And even if I’m wrong, it will be a fun time with friends as we relive our fun trip and make new memories. You can’t beat that.
Life As I know it 