my old kentucky home

weep no more, my lady
oh, weep no more, today
we will sing one song for the old kentucky home
for the old kentucky home far away. stephen foster

most of you know i was born in kentucky. my dad and his family lived there forever, my mom and her family for a while when my grandfather was working at the university of kentucky and then again when she dropped out of college and went down and ended up marrying my dad. my dad is reluctant northerner, he still referes to my younger siblings as 'yankees' since they were born in PA and we(me, e, dad and i think mom) were all born in KY. there are some things that are hard wired into you when you're born in kentucky. you love basketball, whether you're a UK or UL fan is purely geographic (we all know who's better), you love saying y'all, you are predisposed to liking hair spray and curlers, you know there will be someone in your life who refers to it as 'the war of northern aggression' or 'the war for states rights', and you love derby day. for as long as i can remember our family has gotten together to watch the 'most exciting 2 minutes in sports'. i'm not going to lie, i would LOVE to wear a little sun dress, a big hat and some fun sunglasses and drink mint juleps all day long. just once (kerrie it is totally going on my list!) so this past saturday we watched the derby, we watch big brown demolish the field at the end of the race, and then we saw the equine ambulances pull up to shield the filly and we sat silently and waited for the announcers to give us the bad news. eight belles ran the race of her life, second in the derby and then to get compound fractures in both legs is just heartbreakingly tragic. my heart goes out to the trainer, owner and jockey. they are all part of a team that cared for that horse. i know there are tons of people who disagree with me and who find horseracing to be a terrible sport, but i see the beauty of the horses, their god given strong bodies running as fast as they can. the intelligence of the jockeys, holding them back until they know they can just let them go and holding on for dear life as the animal barrels down the straightaway. anyway. it was a big part of my weekend to hang out with family and then watch the race, when the announcers came on and said that eight belles trainer/owner/jockey had no comment my mom was pissed they even tried to talk to them. i'm rambling, in short, rip eight belles, you were a beautiful horse and i loved watching you run.