THE SMALL THINGS

I’m away from home, which is why I have been absent from the blog. I always think I can go out into the world and drive about and do life an...

It’s National Poetry Day. I love National Poetry Day. I’ve been thinking about poetry from the moment I got up this morning. The ones that ...

I’ve been reading about gratitude lately. Gratitude sounds a bit hippy-dippy. It may be practised by those rather maddening earnest types wh...

Today, I went out in the rain. I stood in the rain, I walked in the rain, I talked in the rain, I rode in the rain. A friend cast her eyes u...

The dancing mare could not quite make history. Treve did not win the Arc. Golden Horn did, with a glorious, imperious burst of power, under ...

This afternoon, a five-year-old mare called Treve may make history. I wanted to write about her, so last night I went back and looked at my ...

A sharp frost, the first of the autumn, was followed by wild sunshine and brilliant blue skies. I rode my mare early and then she and her fr...

Another of the great old gentlemen has gone. My father had three sisters, all very glorious and splendid in their different ways. One of the...

I like to think I’m quite stoical about being ill, but I’m not. This virus has been an absolute bugger. Cold sweats, pain all over the body ...