There’s no blog this week because I’m away on holiday. Working through the pandemic has been like wading through treacle and it’s such a relief to take a break from work, book the dogs into kennels and go somewhere that involves an actual overnight stay away from home.
It’s particularly great not to have to write the blog. If you ever feel that it’s sometimes a bit of an effort to read the posts on a weekly basis then consider, for a moment, what it is like to write them. I frequently receive feedback from readers saying, “I had no idea where you were going with this…” which is pretty much the thought that I have most weeks when I sit down to write.
There are admittedly some occasions when I know, on Monday, what I’d like to write about on Friday. But those occasions are rare and it’s much more common that I approach the end of the week with a rising sense of apprehension – that I have absolutely nothing new to write about. There are only so many ways of saying that I hate lockdown, I’m tired of the media’s obsession with disseminating public fear about Covid and that I can’t wait for racing to return to normal.
Speaking of feedback, one of my sisters-in-law is concerned that very few people make comments in the space provided below each post and she’s become worried that she might actually be the only person who reads the blog. I’ve had to explain that the comment box is moderated for publication and seeing as the majority of comments are either promoting Viagra, advertising Russian brides or bemoaning my tipping skills (Saturday’s selection is Quickthorn at York), I tend to leave most of them in the folder marked ‘spam’.
But I do welcome comments from all of my readers (both of you have made valid points in the past) and I’ll soon be obliged to address the other issue which crops up most frequently – that of the profile picture that accompanies the blog. Yes, I know that I don’t look like that any longer, but I like it because I currently identify as someone who is fifteen years younger than their biological age. And at a time when younger people are permitted to identify as anything they damn well please, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to stick with a profile picture which resembles the person that I think I am, rather than the person that I look like.
Nevertheless, I’m away this week with someone who cares as much about the quality of their holiday snaps as they do about the appearance of their dad, resulting in the accompanying photo which will eventually be substituted as my profile pic. This is what I really look like. On a good day. Now that you know, feel free to approach me on any raceday and to let me know what you think about the blog – I’m so sorry that there wasn’t one for you this week – normal service will return when I get back from holiday.