Sunday afternoon. The end of an incredibly hectic deadline – one that has been amazing, emotional and educational all rolled into one. I have just poured a deliciously large gin and tonic – The Botanist with Fever Tree, since you ask – and I have half an eye on the showjumping from Burghley. After all, once a horse girl, always a horse girl. More to the point, I am in need of comfort. For many reasons. Wiped out from long days in the office, staring at a screen and agonising over photographs of Arabian horses when there is just a…
