I don't know what age children are when they start asking, ‘But why?’ Are they three-years old? Four? And when does the, ‘But why?’ battery wear out? I going to guess it wears out sometime around sixteen; the age at which the questions evaporate because they (kid-ults) know the answer to everything. From such secure … Continue reading But Why?
I’ve never been a dog person. I think it depends on whether on not you had one growing up, and I didn't. I’m very enthusiastic about the idea of a dog, much like the idea of trip to Antarctica, which sounds wonderful in theory, but I’d never go. Nor will I ever get a dog. I … Continue reading Dog Ramble
I’ve picked up a virus. I’ve not just brushed against it, but I’ve bagged it, brought it home, and moved it in. It has been a year, almost to the day, since I’ve felt like this. Maybe it’s to become a fixture – clear the decks for the February-flu. Everything in my brain is hazy. Like driving … Continue reading To Weep
Sensory overload, information overload, news overload, work overload, people overload. What about, ‘thinking overload’? What about those same old, tired thoughts that, if you are anything like me, are heavy to lift and wearing to carry around? I’m going away from the weekend and I have to pack within a 10-kilo weight limit. Easy for most, but … Continue reading Being Human
His voice is the first thing I hear when I walk into the shop. “Mina.” He is calling to her down a book-lined corridor to the back room where volunteers are sorting through bags of donations. “Those shoes I bought here before Christmas – remember? The size thirteens? I nearly didn't take them. Haven’t they’ve turned out … Continue reading Glass Half Full
Only the good die young; it’s an idea that has been around forever, or since about 445 BC, when dying young must have been a lot more common than it is today. The origins of the saying go way back to a proverb by Herodotus, who, all those millennia ago, wrote: ‘Whom the Gods love … Continue reading Where Have All The Good People Gone?
I’m sitting in Edinburgh’s Poetry Library. I often sit here. I sometimes work here. It is modern, bright, quiet, and never too warm. Like being at home, I need an extra layer here. The soundscape moves from quiet footsteps and soft tapping keyboards to the gentle hubbub of staff dealing with visitors’ enquiries. They speak … Continue reading Even The Simplest Poem
“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