Same people.
Different idiots.
A living scrapbook
of our adventures.
Explore
Westfall correspondent.
He remembers what they conveniently forgot.
Observations. Conversations. Questionable wisdom.
Showing entries about horses. Show everything
Summoneyy asked after Westfall’s finest horse and would not accept Old Nell without first bringing Old Blanchy’s ghostly, armoured afterlife into evidence. Fame won its usual argument with usefulness, though Nell still had the better résumé: mud, barley, and one unfortunate Cobbler.
Blaedy immediately appointed herself investigator of Blanchy’s secret evils. The charge settled, naturally, on apple extortion and protection oats. A cart horse is accused of mysteries and within minutes these people have her running a countywide root-vegetable racket.
Arrowyy then called me Dad again and proposed pitchers for father-son bonding. I find this arrangement increasingly binding, though at least he understands that kinship begins with somebody else buying the ale.
