Other women have told me that they don’t like match day, they take themselves off for the afternoon or evening, or they adjourn to the back to the flat to block it all out. I like it; I find the unruliness enlivening rather than unsettling. Before I look out the window, I can feel the … Continue reading Match Day
I came away thinking: how can I convey in words what I have just heard? For someone who’s not been here, how can I describe it to them? If felt impossible to recreate that sound in writing. I’ll try. St Giles’ Cathedral, just after dusk. A short concert of choral music, a programme entitled Glimmering Light. … Continue reading Glimmering Light
Five years I’ve lived here, and this is my first visit to the Mansfield Traquair Centre. The former Catholic Apostolic Church closed its doors to a dwindling congregation when the last priest died in 1958. After that, the building had other short-lived reinventions, but its decrepitude had begun. A slow decay of fading and peeling, … Continue reading Mrs. Traquair
I’ve not got any, even though apparently one third of Scots aged 26-40 have at least one. Ok, so I fall out of that age bracket, but I reckon I’m unlikely to fall into the ‘inked up’ category at this stage of my life; although you never know, didn't David Dimbleby take a rush of … Continue reading Edinburgh Tattoo
Last weekend I went to see Scottish Ballet’s 50th anniversary performance of ‘Spring!’ (billed with an exclamation mark). Ever since, I have been fixated with and thinking about the human body. I’m doing it now: sitting in the window seat of a café watching a woman walk past carrying three striped hula hoops: yup, she’s shaped … Continue reading Bend, Bounce, Bound
I heard the phrase a few years ago when a young student sidled up to my husband at an event we were attending, stretched out his arm and offered his hand, saying, ‘I am so pleased to meet you, I have had a brain crush on you for years.’ What does one say in such … Continue reading Brain Crush
“I just saw Donald Glover on the Royal Mile; he’s doing on open-air improv show.” I told them this when I met them in George Square. They responded by speaking at the same time; S. with, “Who’s Donald Glover?” and E. with, “Let’s go see him now.” It wasn’t Donald Glover, but it could have been. Nothing would … Continue reading Festival Frenzy
My Edinburgh Press 