Is this my mother?
I can only assume it is, because I asked her to send me a photo apropos to the next two chapters of her audiobook that I just posted on my podcast platform, and this is what I got. But like last week’s photo, I don’t recognize this person. There’s something familiar about the eyes, but smile is not the one to which I’ve become accustomed. This is the shit-eating grin of a horse-crazy teenager who slept in the barn and always dressed like she was about to embark upon a Steeplechase, or something equally ill-advised, even when she was just going out to walk the dog. Speaking of which, is it just me, or does Topper look like a canine held hostage by a lunatic who might very well saddle him up and ride him to school, should no horse be available.
I’ve always known my mother was obsessed with horses. She rode all the time when I was kid, and my brothers and I often accompanied her. My father knew better. She’d still be riding today but 
for the arthritis, and settles instead for writing about riding, which you can hear for yourself by clicking here. https://bit.ly/TWIHI280 It’s good stuff.
Giddyap!