THE SMALL THINGS

Last night, I had a dream. I did not dream I went to Manderley again but that I was chatting to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. (I know that pe...

As the irrational anger stage flickers in and out like a faulty electrical current, there is also a flat stoicism. Get on, do life, don’t ma...

The snow is coming in over the hills. I can smell it in the air. The red mare has to forgo her spa day doing mud packs as the rug goes back ...

Warning: crazed insomnia last night, so there is a very real danger none of this may make any sense at all.   I read something today about...

Now, this one most certainly is a parable. Or at least, it is in the mazy halls of my own mind. This morning, I walked the mare up into the ...