It always happens. Thursday I plug five horses (well, four horses and a donkey) with nothing better than a second place to show for it. Yesterday I keep quiet, and I get a 10-1 shot romping home and winning me fifty quid. But hey, I deserved it. I once wrote an entire blog post about that horse, only to watch him finish 19th out of... um... 19 horses. I've had better days. So the least he could do was win me a bit of compensation. And I only had to wait five months to get it.
Talking of previous blog posts, people are going to think I'm making this one up, but yesterday afternoon I received a phone call at Lorraine's from a man asking for Natalie Winfield. When I said there was no one here by that name, he almost refused to believe me. But having stuck to my guns and refused to let him convince me that there was a woman living in the house without my knowledge, he added "But that is 72 [address I can't remember, but one that's not remotely like Lorraine's], isn't it??" I said "No it's not", which was greeted with yet more incredulity. By the end of the conversation I was beginning to wonder if it was me, and I'd come home to the wrong house.
Anyway, none of that would be particularly remarkable if it wasn't for this blog post written on May 19th when we were last here. It does make you wonder just how many calls Lorraine gets for the Winfields in the average week. And are they getting calls for her?
Fortunately though I did also have the pleasure of chatting to the woman herself yesterday. Lorraine rang from Rome to say she'd visited the Vatican and the Colosseum, and am I keeping her cats in at night? I said I was, and decided not to mention the sparrow. She seemed quite happy with that.
Anyhoo, I've got to go. I've put £2 on Desert Destiny in the 3:55 at Newmarket at odds of... (wait for it)... 170-1, so I need to go and prepare myself for major riches.