Posted by Tania Kindersley.
Sorry for the absence. I had to finish my book; there was no time for anything else.
I did finish my book.
Well, when I say finish; the second draft is in. There will be editorial. But the really difficult thing is done.
I FINISHED MY BLOODY BOOK.
As if in celebration, the dog was especially sweet. The mare was putting on a show of dearness so antic and funny that I wondered if she almost knew of the tension of the last forty-eight hours and was giving me a special present.
She did her circus tricks around the field, which made me double over with laughter, and then she came to my shoulder and did figure of eights without a halter. I just have to point my finger and lean my body, and she puts her darling old head down and goes in the right direction. It sort of is a bit of a miracle.
Then I stop, and she stops. I gesture towards her shoulder, and she walks neatly and obediently backwards. Then she nods, and looks absurdly touching, and I give her a carrot, and she lets out a low whicker, and twitches her lower lip and gives what comes closest in horses to a smile. Then she leans her head against my chest and closes her eyes and breathes out through her nose and has a little doze.
And somehow, I think: who gives a damn about those 91,000 hard-fought words; because I have this.
Pigeon, at her most grave and noble:
Red, at her most goofy, as she ambles towards me to say hello:
No hill today; the clouds came in and hid it. Here is some grass and a couple of young trees instead: