Tension straps
When the fuzzy black cover for the bench seat got a hole in it, Mum sewed a big red fun-fur heart over the hole to patch it up, to keep it going for a couple years longer… Continue reading Tension straps
It’s too small for you, now
I grew into a girl, and when I stood inside it, and pulled it up around my dusty legs in summertime it only reached my thighs, and my mom said, “You’re too big for that now… Continue reading It’s too small for you, now
NaNoWriMo
I tried not to take on this project, I really did. I tried to stick with the coding and design and writing projects that I’d already committed to. But I failed. Perhaps I didn’t try that hard… Continue reading NaNoWriMo
Continue
I need to stop questioning, and keep to the iron-clad trust that the writing, once I’ve gotten 10 or 15 minutes in, will lead me somewhere at least a little more interesting than where I begin… Continue reading Continue
Stories of things
I’m so often incurious about the things that share my home. But the things I love best have some backstory, some character… Continue reading Stories of things
Make more mistakes
And learning comes from risk, making mistakes, from trial and error. Error, that’s key… Continue reading Make more mistakes
Aesthetic dissonance
Body changes. Roles change. Perspective on life changes. But the art doesn’t change. It’s a stylic choice by a youth, worn by their 75-year-old grandma… Continue reading Aesthetic dissonance
Scottish autumn
In late October, this place burns with auburn beauty. The heather has finished her purple phase and is browning, ready for winter. The mosses are still in denial, burning brightly green in the glut of moisture. Bracken, in death, is painting rust over the landscape, to argue softly with the myriad of greens and yellows… Continue reading Scottish autumn
Loch Leven
We played in the forest, alongside a river where there were sparkly stones, and golden leaves turning, glinting and catching the light above us. Patches of blue skated across the sky, chased by clouds and short-lived showers… Continue reading Loch Leven
Kinlochlaich
Under the grand gloomy old cedars, it is dry, despite the rain that ricochets off the large puddles in the gravel drive. The drive is a long tunnel between ancient oaks. Who planted them? Continue reading Kinlochlaich
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