I’m better. Pretty much. The fire in my head has been doused. T. told me to drink hot whiskey. I didn’t. Not because it wasn’t a good idea, I just forgot to uncork the bottle of Bush each evening. Y. suggested I gently tap below my eyes, from the bridge of my nose to my temples, tracing the … Continue reading Dream Angus
My husband used to say, “we are all ethnic somewhere.” It is a true and wise leveller. Another favourite line of his, in response to someone asking him, “Where is that accent from?” was to bounce back in his soft, mellifluous Canadian tones, “What accent? I don't have an accent, you’re the one with the … Continue reading Everyone Has An Accent
The desk at which W.S. Graham wrote his poems has found a home in Edinburgh’s Poetry Library. His chair too, though the seat has been put away somewhere, “for the time being,”the man told me. More suitably described, I think, as a table, it looks like something from a farmyard kitchen as opposed to a study. It’s … Continue reading Wheesht
After a bit of a delay – a week later than I had planned – I’m back in Edinburgh. “You’ll see a big difference with the stretch in the days,” A. told me. “Sure the days have stretched where I was too,” I reminded her. “I know that,” she answered, “but you’ll still feel it … Continue reading Higher
“What’s your name, please?” I hesitated, then hesitated further. I was wondering how many people when asked their name in Starbucks give one that isn't theirs. Petronella, I think to myself “Mary” I end up saying, giving him my middle name. I wasn’t being ‘Mary, Mary quite contrary’, just the opposite; I was saving the … Continue reading Name
It’s a big week for Scotland. Burns Night falls this week, Thursday, when many Scots will serve up the traditional Burns Supper and celebrate the life and poetry of Robert Burns, who famously wrote in the Scots dialect. The suppers are normally held on or near the poet's birthday, 25 January, but events will run … Continue reading As Others See Us
Trains are a great place for inspiration. Trains are where writers watch, listen and drink in ideas. Take Paula Hawkins’ best-selling, ‘Girl on a Train’, Agatha Christie’s ‘Murder on the Orient Express’, or Albert Camus’ ‘L’Étranger’ - they must all have been inspired, one way or another, from journeys they’d made by train. I’m not … Continue reading Forms
I’m back in Yorkshire for a few days. Mostly I’ve been in York itself, town of snickets and ginnels, inviting little passageways that you might call an alley, close, entry or vennel, depending upon where you come from. Last time I was down here was December and I could barely move through the narrow streets, … Continue reading Yorkshire
