THE SMALL THINGS

I felt like a wounded bear today. I countered it with work. I gave my whole day to HorseBack and that was a good thing. My mother would have...

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...

Sometimes, I fall into a defensive crouch. I put so much pressure on myself that I go into a kind of awful tunnel vision. It is dark in the...

I ring up the Beloved Cousin. ‘Oh,’ she exclaims. ‘I miss you.’ ‘I miss you too ,’ I shout. ‘I was only thinking, just the other day,’ she s...

It’s been a long and odd week. I’ve been rather grumpy and scratchy, only finding moments of calm and bliss when I’m with the red mare, who ...

Oh, oh, the old friends. The ease, the laughter, the fondness, the absolute lack of need to explain oneself in any way. These particular fr...

I have guests coming again, all the way from the south, so obviously this means more domestic reorganisation (I love the hopeful re there, a...

I’ve written quite a lot about the old friends lately. I think it has to do with motoring towards fifty. I shall be forty-eight at the end o...

One of the things that people assume one lacks, if one should take the peculiar decision not to marry and have children, is love. There has ...