Today, Pete and I drove to the Anchorage Airport and picked up my friend Rae, who lives in British Columbia. She’s here for a week. I met her last summer at the Icelandic Horse Farm. We did a clinic together. We introduced one another to the other attendees and immediately became friends.
Our year-long email correspondence has been sporadic, but it was enough to motivate her to come and visit us. I grew increasingly more nervous as Pete and I watched innumerable people come through the airport gate. What, I wondered, would we talk about? I don’t know Rae all that well. I hate those long