Free Once Upon a Misty Bluegrass Hill by Rebecca Bernadette Mance Page B

called him "de mostest hoss that ever was" and that about sums it up for Man o'War in the eyes of most American racing fans. Man o'War was not just a great racehorse -- he became the standard by which all runners have been compared then and ever since. Everything he did was bigger than life, his accomplishments on the track, his dominance as a stallion, and his tremendous charisma that drew visitors from around the world to see him in life and in death. Man o'War, a horse of mythic proportions, was probably the greatest American racehorse ever, and the masterpiece created by the great breeder August Belmont.
     
    It was a fine spring day on the first of March .  The rain ha d passed through that morning leaving the pasture and trees shimmering in the morning sunshine .  The yellow daffodils that ran along the fence-line smiled up at the warm sun that took the chill off the air and stole the drops of rain .
    Her mother would have said, " Tears from heave n , sometimes joy, sometimes sorrow , but always leaving things growing behind them. "
    Storm leaned down and sniffed a tiny blue butterfly that sat on a dandelion.  He sneezed then blew out an annoyed snort.  Jolene giggled and hugged his head.  He neighed softly and nudged her pocket for another piece of apple.   She stood up and accommodated him.  That is what one did with Storm.   He simply demanded his due and you gave it to him.
    Ollie and Finn sat under a nearby tree watching over everything with their arrogant noses in the air.
    The French Guinea, a l arge feathered gray army of fowl advancing against the ticks and pesky flies in the horse poop in the field , moved in unison pecking and clucking their funny little honk…or their vigorous " c hi-chi-chi " sound if they saw something that was deserving of a warning .  If the raccoons or coyote didn ' t get the Guinea they would eat all the flies out of the poop and the horses would not have to wear fly masks that made them look like Zor r o in the summer.
    But often times it was the Guinea that ganged up on the raccoons and foxes.  The y circled and pecked their victim.  Foxes and raccoons might get away…snakes and mice rarely ever did.
    On the arbor her father built behind the garden her mother ' s wisteria draped in purple splendor .  Th e morning glory with flowers just the color of Patrick ' s eyes , waived its branches over the garden fence.
    She had lived there just ten months but it seemed like a lifetime now. 
    I t was spring again .  She saw Patrick nearly every day.  He invited her up to the big house for meals.  She went most times and had started looking at the cooking channel so she could cook his funny meals for him when Mat a his housekeeper was gone on weekends.  She loved to cook and bake but her mother had mostly taught her southern cooking and Patrick liked a lot of food she had never heard of before.  It was pretty good sometimes. 
    He made her laugh with his tales of Ireland and his family growing up.  It was clear he loved his younger sisters Mora and Geri.  And there was his younger brother Shannon who had been his partner in mischief . 
    Patrick was super-busy because he had started a special organic feed business for animals and it was growing worldwide.  He was also inventing all sorts of things for organic farming…and even had his own beer.  Bourbon Trail Beer .  Jolene remembered that Aunt Paula liked that beer a lot but it was too expensive for her to buy all the time. 
    All was right in Jolene ' s world.  Or at least as right as it could be without her mamma and daddy. 
    So, t oday was the perfect day to ask Patrick . 
    She ' d been practicing with Storm.  She knew exactly what to do….except for the gate part.  Her father had taught her everything but that and he had been a trainer most of his life . 
    Jolene now raced and timed Storm n early every day .  Patrick didn ' t think there was any purpose in her racing as fast as she could with Storm on his