In 1962, I was in the second grade. My scrapbook consisted mainly of pictures of horses I’d cut out of the newspaper. If I were lucky, the images were in color. Most of the time, they were not. As an eight year old, I vowed that someday I’d see the Lippizaners in...
Trying to maintain a positive, upbeat outlook the past six weeks while being slammed with the fact that three of the people I most cherished on this earth have left it, has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to face. Just as I thought my muddled mind was...
