Last week, while certain someones -- Barb! Ruth! Lynette! -- were frolicking in Scottsdale at the Arab Nationals, I stayed behind and soldiered through another 14 inches of fresh snow. I can complain about the weather with the best of them, but there is nothing else like a crisp, sunny winter day:
Queen Keltie, in repose:
A mysterious heap o' snow in paddock 3. There was absolutely no clue how that got there:
Mickey, missing Ruth desperately. cough.
And Finnegan, thinking that maybe I'd forgotten to take his picture:
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