THE SMALL THINGS

Author’s note: I’m sorry to say this is not the most sparkling piece of prose I have ever written. I’m rather over-tired after a packed week...

Too busy to blog today. So much work, so few hours. But there is always time to go down to the field and get on the sweet mare. Even a half ...

Breakfast discussing the European elections. Horses. Forty pages of editing. Happy bank holiday bets. The genius of McCoy, the prettiness of...

The red mare, with her duchessy sense of entitlement, does tend to colonise this blog. She gave me a ride this morning of such grace and eas...

I was going to write a lovely, wandering blog for you about love, and the true meaning of the word amateur. I wrote it in my head as I was r...

You know when the telegrams have to be sent to the Smugpot address? Yesterday was in danger of being one of those days. I’d worked out some ...