The ‘big horses’ as I called them as a child, were my absolute favourite way back when.
My heart still skips a beat when I see a proper carousel.
I went into a bookies for the first time in years today, to look at the card for the Derby. I wanted to check for stamina in the winner’s damsire, but the Racing Post was firmly weighted down under the sharp elbows of a serious old gentleman who was holding forth around one of those plasticky tables they have in those joints, so I left without the information I wanted.
I am not so fond of the Derby that I am desperate to back a 13/8 winner, but I was certainly glad for the owner (Oppenheimer), trainer (Gosden) and jockey (Dettori) – particularly the former two who had decided it was worth supplementing the colt for the race.
I did not venture back into the bookies. I am quite glad I didn’t too. I would have backed the winner with my only fiver, and then tomorrow I would have had to traipse back to collect the small winnings. I mean, who needs that kind of hassle on a Sunday. Now, if I had backed the 50/1 Oaks winner on Friday, it would have been a different proposition altogether.
Silas Marner is a complicated tale by George Eliot. Falsely accused of theft, the weaver Marner leaves his hometown to start again, far away. He lives an isolated existence, weaving and hoarding gold, until like his good name, his money is stolen from him. Broken, his redemption comes through the lost child Eppie who he finds in the snow and raises alone.
The golden-haired girl’s love for the old miser transforms Silas forever.
The Conservatives speak of money and hard work and fairness, but there is no love in them. There is no love for the poor, the sick or the frail. There is no love for those who stumble or fall, or for those who make one mistake, let alone more than one. The Conservative world is one that Silas Marner the miser would have cherished. The bribes on the table to the electorate would have gone down well before Eppie arrived. Right to buy for social housing tenants – check. Shares in Lloyds for sale cheap to the public – check. No tax rises – check.
But when love arrives in your life – love for another, the wider community, the world, the planet we live on, the Conservative way ceases to make the least sense of all, except to the grasping miser in your pocket.
Do not listen.
Vote for compassion and equity, not gold and greed.