Own up: how many of you, when alone in the car, or the kitchen, or the bath, take to an imaginary stage and sing along to whatever song is playing on the radio (or inside your head) with fluent, free flowing nonsensical lyrics that you valiantly make up on the spot? Thank goodness it’s not … Continue reading Singing Along
Is your cherry blossom out yet? Is the bloom pink or white? Maybe yours has even come and gone. In Edinburgh, it is a little late this year. A few have burst forth; delicate, pale pink confetti, the thinnest scraps of tracing paper, anxiously clinging on as the spring winds push through. Many have yet … Continue reading Fleeting
On this day, two years ago, my husband died. Suddenly. And so began a world without him, a life change, one my friend N. says is ‘the hardest work you’ll ever have to do.’ She’s right, but I’ve had help; ongoing help and friendship. And I have had time. Which is just as well, for … Continue reading Watching The Sunrise
I’m back across for a few days. Back in Northern Ireland, the province, the North, Ulster, the six counties – whatever it is you call it. For remember, whatever name you chose to attach to this place can be loaded with meaning and interpretation - over here, anyway. But I’m beginning to think all of … Continue reading An Alternative Ulster
The world seems like a precarious place right now. It feels like we could jump very quickly from slinging mud to slinging missiles. Or, I should say, more missiles by more people, and for a very confusing array of reasons. It is hard to know where the truth lies; a sentence that can deliberately be … Continue reading Repeating Cycles
They say that at the end of one’s life it is the things that we did not do that we regret; we never regret the things that we might have got wrong, we don't regret trying and failing. So sang Edith Piaf, famously, at the end of her short life: ‘Je ne regrette rien / … Continue reading Regrets, I’ve Had A Few
Cramond, a small hamlet about five miles from Edinburgh’s centre, is on the north-western shore of the city. It sits at the mouth of the River Almond where it enters the Firth of Forth and, if you have a good strong arm, it almost seems as if you could hurl a stone and have it … Continue reading Hope Springs At Cramond
Since when has it become ok to disagree so violently and impudently? Was it always like this or was there a time when we could listen a little more openly, quietly, thoughtfully? It is an important skill to do so, even if we still end up in the same place of respectful disagreement. Research has … Continue reading I Beg To Differ
He was right, T.S. Eliot: April most definitely is the cruellest month. A time when the days have lengthened and we are ready to stretch with them, but (true this year) when we are continually pounded by weather that refuses to show its gentle side. ‘The Waste Land’, T.S. Eliot ‘April is the cruellest month, … Continue reading April Is The Cruellest Month
My friend’s parents live in rural North Yorkshire with a garden the size of a small holding. They are an older version of ‘The Good Life’ – do you remember it? The sitcom from the Seventies with an idealistic couple - Felicity Kendall (Barbara) and Richard Briers (Tom) - who dropped out of modern, commercial … Continue reading Keep Her Lit
