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
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
They say after every seven years of life, there is a shift. Some might say it is far greater than a shift, it is a transformation. After seven years, every cell of one’s skin has been shed, regenerated, and a new person is born. Seven is the mystical number linked to the idea of completion … Continue reading Every Seven Years
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
Christmas 1983, and the blue box with the yellow cursive print that says ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is the big family present of the year. Games would last for hours. If it got too late, the board and pieces were left in place with orders not to touch so it could be resumed the next day. My … Continue reading Playing Trivial Pursuit
‘You make a great cup of tea.’ I know it doesn’t sound like the most fulsome praise to give someone, but it’s a decent start. The small things matter, in fact, people are more likely to believe and remember the small compliments, the droplets of praise; they become the mortar holding our days together, they … Continue reading You Did Good
When children do it, it is said to be normal; their imaginary friends are thought of as the captivating make-believe workings of a lively mind. When grown-ups do it, and are either silly or plucky enough to tell anyone, they are in danger of being looked at askew (at best) or being told to immediately … Continue reading Imaginary Friends
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
I left school thirty years ago. Thrown on life’s waves – that’s how I looked upon it. It was a fracture, something daunting, a major life change to be survived rather than to be relished. At least that’s how I think I felt, memory does play funny tricks on the truth. I loved school; I … Continue reading From The Bottom Of My Pencil Case
‘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 