This I had to see: my mother on horseback.

From a distance I observed that my sister was leading the two-horse hack, encouraging mother to whip her steed into action. The horses broke into a trot. Almost immediately my mother fell off, but soon she was back on again, albeit without a hat. It was almost comical, but I did fear for my mother’s safety.

Later I joined many of my friends from student days for a reunion. At one point JG and PG were holding hands. I did my best to encourage them to recall their earlier encounter in JG’s grotty London flat thirty years ago, but neither was interested in doing so.