Today at Cheltenham

 Back at God's Own Sport Venue after a hiatus of three years, there's much to be grateful for. Just being there is the first of them but doing one's homework and getting so much of it right is less something to be grateful for but something one would usually expect a reward for.

Admittedly, it was a good day for favourites but they weren't all favourite when I picked them. More crucially, I did mix in some second choices into the various combinations I defrayed my investment across, a couple of the more confident selections got beat and it was actually a concatenation that included a couple of alternative picks that saved the day.

In the words of Led Zeppelin it was Nobody's Fault But Mine that I could have the winners of the first six races and be second in the other one and only come out a fiver in front. It sounds unlucky but it isn't. Those were the combinations I chose and you only get paid out on the successful ones. That's how it works. It could have been worse but it also could have been a lot better.

No, not at all. I had no idea while watching so much of the Wiseguy Midas Touch come true that once I checked the account it would amount to so little but the money is not quite the point. It was hugely enjoyable.

The worlds of Literature and Horse Racing don't intersect a great deal. One is a dodgy world full of spivs and wide boys and the other involves taking horses to a countrified location to see which one runs and jumps best. But if Rachael remained unaware that such an eminent man of letters and admirer of hers was there and saw her, well, no, it is unlikely she'll ever have enough time on her hands to resort to the obscure places that my writing turns up in but perhaps she'd like it if she did.