I'm well and facing 1998 and the New Year like as if it was another steeplechase on my long competitive road to the paradise of contentment, though they seem to be making the jumps higher and more difficult! The crowds are noisier and more difficult to control - and the racetrack officials are all crooks and gangsters!
I'm happy enough I suppose - but just a bit bewildered and apprehensive - I don't know why? I get these feelings from time to time - I suppose I'd everybody does? The time is now 10.30pm and I need to be up early in the morning. Outside, a cold icy wind is blowing from the north-east with flurries of snow. The horses in the field opposite my window are huddled against the trees, and in spite of the fact I telephoned the Royal Society for the Protection of Animals, nothing has been done to provide a proper shelter for the poor beasts!
The horses are snorting and stamping beneath the bare branches of a gnarled oak as if to give notice to me that they appreciate the gesture of my fruitless concern
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