I was indulging in my favourite pastime of the season, which is to moan about the short, dark days, when A. modified my melancholy. ‘The darkness gives you more time to be creative,’ she suggested, ‘for example, I’m feeling a jumper coming on.’ A. is a knitter. ‘New pattern or new wool?’ I asked. Maybe … Continue reading Homemade
Here I am at the seaside, again. Torquay this time. Home to Fawlty Towers, and the inimitable Manuel (Qué?). Maybe we’ve hit on a particularly good weekend but I get the feeling it is often like this in Torquay: hot and sunny with endless blue skies. Eternally tanned pensioners watch knots of youngsters crabbing at … Continue reading The Running Tide
To pursue whatever you set your mind to with the joy of a six year-old child: that’s said to be how we should seek to live. This supposes that every six-year old child embraces all of life joyfully, which they probably don’t, as personality and nature come into play. Largely, though, small children do seem … Continue reading Innocence
‘Life can only be understood backwards, but it can only be lived forwards.’ These are the words of Søren Kierkegaard, Danish philosopher, theologian and poet. I was at a conference last week where one of the speakers, from Denmark, drew extensively from the work of Kierkegaard. When he told us he was going to delve … Continue reading Young and Old
“Your auntie loves a poem. Tell her the poem you learned this week at school.” On the other end of the phone, G. was being prompted by his father. Gorgeous child, I used to call him. To be fair, he’s not a child anymore; he’s a teenager (just), so I have to drop all that … Continue reading I Met A Child
At school I had a very strict Primary Five teacher, Miss M.. I started the year as an innocent eight year old, and ended it as a slightly disenchanted nine year old. No harm done, that’s growing up; isn't it? Miss M. had a great range of ‘wise’, snippy sayings: her no-nonsense approach to education … Continue reading Empty Vessels
I’m beginning to see Edinburgh as my town. Beginning to. The crowds have descended for the festival, and, as I weave my way through them, I think: “I live here. I know where I’m going (geographically speaking), while most of these people don't. I’ll still be here on Tuesday 28thAugust, when they’ve all disappeared like … Continue reading Our Town
John Taylor Gatto devoted 30 years of his life to teaching. When he resigned, he ploughed his energy into writing books about modern education; books that weren’t always complimentary about the ideology, history, and consequences of western teaching practices. I’m not going to get into all that, but today, as many children break up for … Continue reading School’s Out For Summer
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
‘What do you want to do when you grow up?’ Were you ever asked that as a child? Have you ever asked it to a child? And, I suppose we expect a one-sentence answer about what they want to be, rather that what they want to do: I want to be a footballer; I want … Continue reading When I Grow Up
