Shortly after rekindling my relationship with the builder boyfriend, I had another hair-brained scheme. I brought the mad chestnut mare in from her retirement field thinking that while I’m U-turning on crucial decisions with Cameronesque ease, I might as well review my policy on horses, as well as men.
The mad chestnut mare is 25 and murderously bad-tempered.
Disagree with half of it, enjoy reading all of it
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