Sometimes your worst fears come true. They can be small fears, like being landed with a parking ticket in the heart of the countryside on a Sunday afternoon when all you’ve done is to park up on a wide verge so as to take a walk across the moors. Or they can be large fears, … Continue reading Sometimes
She gave us another creative writing exercise to complete: describe the night, apply images, and use detailed observation. Then, lightly, in a voice tinged with an affable threat, the teacher added these words: ‘and, whatever you do, leave the moon alone, it has suffered enough.’ She’s right. It’s hard to describe the moon without falling … Continue reading Moon
‘Tell me how you made it, I’ll have a go at it when I get home,’ M. asked me. I told her. ‘I’m not sure about that part where you cube the aubergine then salt it and leave it to soften,’ she said, ‘sounds like a whole palaver. I think I’ll make mine without the aubergine.’ I … Continue reading Bon Appétit
A late June night. I’d picked her up from the tram, and we were driving back along York Place. From there, we drove down Leith Walk, briefly passing through Haddington Place, before we turned onto Montgomery Street. She lifted her hand, an involuntary action, she didn't seem to know she was doing it, and pressed … Continue reading Absence
Hadrian’s Wall: a defensive fortification built by the Romans in AD 122 in the reign of Emperor Hadrian. Coast to coast, it runs for 73 miles from the banks of the River Tynenear the North Sea (a little east of Newcastle) to the Solway Firth on the Irish Sea (a little west of Carlisle). Back … Continue reading Walls Between Us
J. was here at the weekend. He’s eight and he’s a numbers boy. He assessed my fuel gauge as we drove out towards the coast. It’s shaped like a clock, with twelve rays fanning out in a circle, all of which light up orange when it’s full, then each ray is stubbed out as the … Continue reading Numbers
I phoned my friend the other night. It’s a bad time of the year for him, the marking of an anniversary that makes him sad. ‘It was a night just like this,’ he told me, ‘gorgeous, still, warm; swallows skimming the grass. I sat out late enjoying an evening that lasted forever, and then the … Continue reading Happiness
Gigi is an old MGM film, a musical that came out in the fifties. It’s all glamour, black tie and Parisian chic. It’s often shown on television around Christmas time. My favourite part of the film is the duet between a husband (Maurice Chevalier, singing in heavily accented English) and his wife of many years, in … Continue reading Ah Yes, I Remember It Well
I was listening to a gardening programme on the radio at the weekend while driving back to Edinburgh along the East Lothian coast. It was the usual Sunday Q&A, this time broadcast from Northern Ireland where one woman, from the Ards Peninsula, asked why her foxgloves were eight feet tall this year. Most of the expert … Continue reading Flowers Appear On The Earth
Donal Ryan is an author from Tipperary with an accent like a beautifully played reel on the fiddle and an engaging smile that suggests he is not entirely sure of anything, but that he’s content not knowing. I heard him speak in County Carlow this weekend. His candour was endearing. He told us that every act … Continue reading I Made You Up
