Farewell morning. Group photos at the front of the house, standing by the potted geraniums on the steps behind the buxom dahlias (flowers that are never knowingly under-dressed). Barb and I are dressed to match the flowers. I’m wearing a geometric print red dress, she’s in a botanical-printed short-legged jumpsuit. ‘When it’s short like this … Continue reading Scoosh In
In this place there is no bedtime and no set time to rise, both are done in keeping with one’s mood, whim, energies. In this place there is always energy. This place has loose joints, vitality, a spring in its step. Here, skin is smooth, wrinkles are fine tracings of smile lines, worries are pushed … Continue reading Summer at Home
On the fun to be had in falling into water.
Some summers are golden; they are tanned legs, they are parched yellow grass, they are sunshine dancing a path on the ocean. Other summers are filled with the primary energy of blue and green; they are endless azure skies into which runner beans curl and stretch, they are hedgerows heavy with honeysuckle, they are jewelled … Continue reading Whiter Shade of Pale
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
The earth is threatened with extinction and children and young people from all nations have been marching in their thousands to demand that those in power wake up and listen. What they are doing is fantastic, worthy of attention, comment and action, but sometimes I need to bypass the anxiety-inducing issues and focus on what … Continue reading A Little Bit of Heaven
“When we lose that sense of the possible, we lose it fast.” Joan Didion, Blue Nights. I understand what she’s saying. For me it’s like the tide coming in on a sandcastle: one minute it is standing firm and the next its foundations have been eaten away and down it goes in one a lurching collapse. … Continue reading Possibility
Holiday? Did I say something about lying on a sun-lounger, drinking sangria and lazily soaking in the holiday sun? I take it all back! I have been mugged, mobbed and molested by my Spanish-Irish friend’s three children. Let me think: F. is a fearless eight year-old, S. is spirited and six, and A. is three, an … Continue reading It’s Always Ourselves We Find In The Sea
My Edinburgh Press 