Memories and Mug Shots

Like anyone else who was raised with horses--and lots of people who weren't--I'm mourning brave Barbaro. As much as I want to remember him in the moment of his Derby victory, and as determined as I am to erase the image of him when he pulled up in the Preakness, the image of "Bobby" nobly bearing his casts and slings is well worth cherishing. All these months his owners confronted the possibility--even the probability of the decision they made yesterday morning.

My heart goes out to Dr. Dean Richardson, who worked so tirelessly and devotedly. He has connections to this state--his mother is a resident, he spent the summers of his youth on the same Big Lake where our cottage is located, and he's a Dartmouth graduate.

So far this week I've had a break from the State House, which is why I'm focussed on the novel. My legislative committee has received just one more bill, but we haven't yet scheduled our next public hearing.

I added some embellishments to my chart--the characters' real faces in place of those blue and pink circles.



This group of eight people contains two queens, two kings, four soldiers, a duchess, a duke, an earl, a countess, a couple of trollops.

Time to stop playing with pictures, and play around with words!