THE SMALL THINGS

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...

Writing is such an odd business. On some days, I feel as if I am wading through mud. My addled brain has nothing of use in it. I write becau...

I think again about choices. It’s pouring with dreary old rain; the sky is like dirty washing-up water. Even Scotland’s great beauty cannot...

A joke amount of work today. My fingers were flying . Sometimes, when I have a lot to do and deadlines to meet and pressure is mounting, I ...

Today, I met a guy with a boat. This kind of thing sometimes happens at HorseBack. My friend The Marine says, as I’m leaving, ‘Oh, there’s a...

Two of the things I love most in the world are people who are really, really good at their jobs, and people who can talk fascinating talk fo...

I had such a profound thought when I was riding the red mare this morning that I practically fell off with delight. Oh, I thought, there is ...

The rain won. I did call those damn Perspective Police, but they’ve now buggered off because they have a better invitation. I did look at t...

It is ten degrees, and the sky is the colour of lost hope. So much water is pouring out of it that I start to suspect that something has gon...