‘Bomb the hill, bomb the hill!’ He scoots off. ‘What’s he saying?’ I ask the dad. ‘He’s saying he wants to bomb the hill.’ So, I had heard correctly. ‘He’s two years old and can barely say my name, but he can say ‘bomb the hill’? You need to go to parenting classes. What does … Continue reading Bomb Hills Not Countries
I’m reading Sally Rooney’s, Conversations with Friends and wishing I could have more of them myself. Not more friends – although one can never have too many – but more conversations. I’m having plenty of on the phone, and via facetime, zoom and the rest, but I want the meandering type, the interruptions that come … Continue reading Talking To Myself
Social isolation – no difference there then! C. said that to me last month when we were teetering on the edge of the lockdown and we laughed in mutual understanding, each of us paid up members of the Loner’s Club; that not so exclusive band of members who spend too much of the week hanging … Continue reading Few and Simple Pleasures
You know you’re going mad when… You take to the skirting boards with a toothbrush to clean around the cracks. You panic buy a 65-inch smart TV. You decide Barry Manilow really does write the songs that make the whole world sing. You look forward to C. calling you to talk for an hour about … Continue reading You Know You’re Going Mad When…
When I am on my own for too long, I crave company. Then, when I get to spend time with people, I sometimes want to sit quietly and not talk too much. Companionable silence isn't to everyone’s taste, but it’s worth giving pause, mid-conversation, to check oneself and to assess, as my friend N. used … Continue reading The Mad Ones
“Could you send me the name of the wine you brought when you came for dinner the other night?” Ping. Back came an immediate response: “Canny Mind.” Gone are the days of wines being named after the vineyard, the land where the grapes are grown or the winemaker himself. Château Des Maures, Cloudy Bay and … Continue reading Canny Mind
How often have you heard it said, in hushed tones, through gritted teeth: ‘X is driving me round the bend’? It’s a common one, isn't it? Certain people press your buttons; their words, attitude, and general droning on drives you nuts, yet the person next to you is unaffected, it rolls off them like rain … Continue reading Round The Bend
My Edinburgh Press 