A Wet Derby Day

Yes, the day for the 134th Kentucky Derby has arrived! It has been raining pretty good here since yesterday afternoon, with even a bit of lightning when I came home from work. However, the Derby is scheduled to start at 6 PM, and from what I saw on the weather map, the rain should be gone in plenty of time for Churchill Downs to dry out.

By the way, in case I didn’t mention it before, the church Leive and I attend here has its services on Saturday night, not Sunday morning, because they don’t own the building they use. If attendance is down this evening, I’ll blame it on the Derby.

The Derby is getting less attention than it did last year, when the Queen of England showed up. Still, I’m hearing plenty of talk about it. The newspaper, for example, showed on the front page a guide to identifying the horses by the jackets their jockeys will be wearing. Wow, I learn something new every day. Yes, I’ve known for a long time that athletes wear numbers on their jerseys, and racing cars have numbers painted on them, so that people can recognize them from a distance. After all, not every star paints his hair in rainbow swirls, the way Dennis Rodman did on the basketball court! Now I know the horse-riding equivalent; I never paid attention to that detail before. In this case, the rider’s jackets remind me a little more of medieval heraldry, not only because the colors and patterns look a little like coats of arms, but also because of the common origin; those knights painted their shields because they all looked the same when they had their armor on.

Last night, we talked at length with my sister and my mother. Both of my parents are doing better, and Dad is ready to leave the nursing facility. Leive thinks he can go home if one of her friends is there to keep an eye on him. They’re keeping Mom, however, because they think she has some kind of stomach virus, but they haven’t identified it yet. Leive and I think it’s the liquid diet they’re giving her, which is also raising her blood sugar level instead of lowering it. Too bad we can’t give her the shake Leive is drinking now; it isn’t available in Florida stores.

What a bunch of incompetents they have in Winter Park Memorial Hospital! At a minimum they’re understaffed, judging from how long it takes for Mom to get any kind of service. The only good thing I can say about the place is that it’s just a mile from where we lived in the Orlando suburbs. Every experience I’ve had there has been a bad one. They even messed up when Lindy was born, by offering a complementary meal for Leive and I, but scheduling it for the day after we went home; gosh, we told them in advance how long we were planning to stay. Maybe in the future we can make arrangements for Mom & Dad to receive treatments somewhere else, like Florida Hospital East.

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