Through the magic of Facebook, I recently got back in touch with the serious looking person in the orange Snoopy sweatshirt in this picture. 
Alice Lichtenstein in 2010
The other person, I’m a little embarrassed to admit, is me. The third creature is Leica, my lovely bay mare for the summer, and the photo was taken at horse camp in Maine. Alice, in the sweatshirt, was my best friend when I was 13, back in 1969. I hadn’t seen her since about 1971 (and still haven’t, we’ve just been in touch by e-mail). It turns out she’s a writer. A very fine 
writer of literary fiction, in fact (her most recent book, out soon, is called Lost).
My other best friend from those days, Lorraine, whom I also re-met recently after having been out of touch for thirty years, shyly and apologetically showed me the first few chapters of the book she’d been writing, but put away “because it was probably much too awful.”
It wasn’t awful. In fact it was astonishing, and she’s now working on finishing it.
So how did my 13-14 year old self happen to choose brilliant writers as best friends? Damned if I know. But it does send a shiver down my spine.
It’s actually quite simple: YOU are a brilliant writer; perhaps we are in your orbit!
I was thinking maybe it had something to do with horses…?
Please show me where to find the nearest horse!
Rather a late response, but I met a woman out dog walking in the park last week who wanted a date for her Manchester Terrier (MT). Just so happened I knew the right (and local) MT dog for her and so was able to put the woman in touch with Mr MT’s owner. Turns out both women actually knew each from a past life but had long lost touch… how strange life and friendships (and dog dating) turns out to be.
And I think I know both MTs. I think one of them has stayed at my house with my dog sitter. But have gone blank on his name. And everything else…..