Off to the Races

It's Derby weekend, don't you know? Time to don your fancy hat and go to the track. Sip mint juleps and place your bets.

It's not Kentucky Oaks, but there's a track about an hour and a half south of us so we ditched church and went to the races.

With the wind in our hair, we jumped in the jeep and headed south to Sonoita. Pronounced Son-OY-ta. Personally, I would say Son-oh-EE-ta, but apparently, I would be wrong.

(That's me in the rearview mirror of the jeep...you can't see me because my hair is blowing around like mad...I kind of like it...)

We had some drama before we left because my boy couldn't find the lenses for his goggles. You see, he doesn't like the wind in his face the way I do. Oh mama, the drama. But, we found the stupid piece of plastic and happily, were on our way.

The welcome sign to the town of Son-OY-ta has horses racing. I kind of think that is all they do there. It's a small town, out in the middle of friggin' nowhere, with a bunch of ranches. Horses and cattle. That's what they do. And wine. There was also a sign saying "You are entering wine country." I'm guessing we are among the rare and few French people to visit "wine country" in southern Arizona. Otherwise, they would not possibly call it "wine country."

As we got closer to our destination, Patrice asked where we were supposed to go. I said, "I don't think we can miss it." Sure enough, a cowboy welcomed us to the fairgrounds.

There were races both Saturday and Sunday this weekend. The fairgrounds' website announced the events for both days, with a derby hat contest, mint juleps, and a mariachi concert on Saturday (that's what you get when the Kentucky Derby and Cinco de Mayo collide) and free military day on Sunday. Even though I wouldn't get to strut my fancy stuff in the derby hat contest, we decided to wait until Sunday so that we could go with the Daddy. There were hats at the track, of the cowboy variety:

And the Rodeo Princesses were on hand to congratulate and provide a photo op for the winners.

The trumpets blared, warning the betters (or is it bettors? Gamblers? Anyway...) that they had 5 minutes before the race to place their bets.

We saw quarterhorses...

...and thoroughbreds. We preferred the longer races for sure, and I secretly desperately wanted to yell "C'mon Dover, move yer bloomin' arse!" but I refrained. It was hard.

My funny honey bunny wore his goggles all day. The security guards and ticket-takers and our neighbors in the stands all made funny, amused, and yet somehow very kind comments. For a boy who does not like attention, he sure attracted a lot today. 

Shine on, buddy. Be you.