Three weeks and four days since I’ve last seen him. We’ve heard from his sister that his decline has been rapid in that time, she says he speaks little during her visits. Time on the frailty ward has not only made him frailer it has mixed up his mind and scrambled his memory. I’m prepared … Continue reading Unborn
I have this silly habit of turning to the end of a novel to read the acknowledgements before I’ve even started reading the first chapter. Don’t know why I do it; I think perhaps it humanises the author for me, places them in the context of their family and friends. I wonder how a friend … Continue reading To All My Neglected Friends
Either her mum – if she was taking the boy to football – would drop her off, or I would drive the mile through the park to collect her. For a while, I themed our dinners by colour. Accidentally at first, a game we stumbled upon because of orange week – the week we had … Continue reading Every End Is A New Beginning
“Alexander Rostov, could it be that you have become settled in your ways?” This is the rhetorical question the protagonist of the novel A Gentleman in Moscow (by Amor Towles) asks himself. Thereafter the narrator speaks, noting how younger people are rarely set in their ways: “At the age of twenty-two, Count Alexander Rostov could … Continue reading Set In Your Ways
Some people fetishise them, others abhor them. The more I look at mine, the odder they seem. Is that all I have holding me up? Upon close examination they look wholly inadequate. Too long and narrow to provide ballast – surely a better design would have been a broader base, like duck feet or snowshoes. … Continue reading Winter Feet
There’s something about staring out to sea that slows one’s breathing, and no matter how rough the sea is, the mind calms, ideas stir, if you happen to be with someone, easy conversation flows. I was sitting on a bench yesterday, looking out to sea, friend beside me, take away coffees, scones in brown paper … Continue reading If I Knew Then
And with the turn of the calendar month it is warm enough for me to take my socks off for Zoom Pilates. I can see on screen that most other people have never had cause to revert to socks and have remained barefoot throughout the winter – either they are hardy types or they have … Continue reading This Little Piggy
Care nothing about getting food all over your clothes, what are washing machines for? Sit on the grass anyway, a damp and dirty bum isn’t so bad when you are up and moving. Mud on your knees, so what? Take a big drink of water and swish it all around the inside of your mouth … Continue reading How To Turn an Adult Into a Child
Bertrand Russell, philosopher, mathematician, historian, writer, essayist (annoying all-rounder), wrote – at a sprightly 81 years old – a famous article entitled, “How to Grow Old”. He himself was to grow much older, but he can’t have known, when he was writing it, that he would live to the ripe old age of 97. On … Continue reading Life Is a River
‘You need a man.’ I looked M. up and down before I told her, but her want of a man was obvious, and urgent. ‘Preferably a well-proportioned one.’ M. looked around the shop surreptitiously, as though preparing to sneak up on one, pounce and grab him. But this was a man-free shop. The two women … Continue reading Coats On
My Edinburgh Press 