52and40/33 Feel The Burn


How is it October?  And 2017?  And, bloody hell, I’m 41.  Anxiety’s  a tide inside my flesh.  What if I don’t have time to do it all, whatever else ‘it’ might be?  Then, eight hours later, zen.

My five nights on Raasay were wonderful.  Even the fall into a wide burn as if it were a bathtub was brilliant.  I attempted a swing from a tree branch to cross the water and, well, the rest is history – especially the branch.  It was a moment time did slow though, so, beautiful in it’s own way…






52and40/28 Ties That Bind


Months ago, husband and I scoured our west coast map for unseen places, zoning in on Glenelg.  We went last week, exhilarated by the drive over The Ratagan Pass which had us whooping, awe-filled and delighted about the backseat being uncharacteristically empty so nobody was chucking up.

It was a flying visit, but a great place for orientation with Skye as the Arnisdale shore’s just 600m across the water.  Glenelg’s history’s fascinating – and prescient.  We’ll be back in future to bag the ferry crossing and drive up to Elgol (and whoop more).



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We’re All Going On A (Mental) Holiday….

I’m learning that if I can change the subject for long enough, I can change my life.

Sometimes, I need a holiday from my troubles.   If I don’t remember to rein back thought processes about the worst case scenario at their tiniest beginnings, I can easily get stuck in looping grooves of inner negativity.  Being able to swap perspectives for another view is a great tool for stopping thoughts from becoming overwhelming.

Friends who let me laugh first and give me the choice about whether or not I want to speak about what’s bothering me are the best kind of friends for me.  This awareness feels cringey now as I realise I’ve not done this very thing for friends in the past.  I’ve made well intentioned blunders thinking that being a good friend meant almost forcing someone to put words to the worries in their life; that relentlessly talking about it would reduce their problems, allowing them to make two or three painful but productive moves on the snakes and ladders board without slipping down a reptile.

I was wrong.   

Sometimes, the difficult things are best left in a cupboard with the door firmly shut for a few hours, days or weeks.  Hell, some things need months, years or decades.  Life doesn’t let difficult things just disappear; it brings them continually back to stand in front of us.  So why I thought I needed to ring fence that process for friends now escapes me, but I guess I felt an urgency to workshopping emotional problem solving as if it were speed dating.  These days I take a longer view.

As we get older big ideas get simpler but logistics are more complex; we have more people to consider, plans and feelings are intertwined in ways they weren’t twenty years ago, we have a greater sense of what we need but have to juggle making the time to get it or keep it.  Spending time lying on a cognitive sun lounger or dipping our toes in a warm salty sea of positive, enriching distraction is an essential thing, if we’re to avoid being overwhelmed.  Sometimes changing the subject offers vital perspective that shrinks the negativity of other situations and allows us to feel that perhaps the stuff in the cupboard can be dealt with, after all.

I’ve started telling the people closest to me when I need a little holiday from my troubles and asking them to come and sit on the sun lounger beside mine while I soak up the rays and gently buzz off just talking about life in general or whatever’s on their mind and needing release.  While our minds are relaxed and busy elsewhere our subconscious gets busy with fixing the tricky stuff, without us even being aware of just how noisily the gears are grinding.  To allow our minds the space they need to work on things with intuition rather than intensity we don’t need denial; we just need a change of subject and a more relaxed perspective.


52and39/40 The Road Less Travelled





I drove to Hawick, last Friday.

I suddenly had an afternoon on my hands and the weather was unseasonably brilliant.  So I pointed the car at a road I haven’t driven before.

I took the A68 for most of the way, wanting to stop and take photos every ten seconds, such is the beauty.

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Scotland in the sunshine is a perfection of sky, landscape and scale.

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It was so ridiculously luxuriant to have an adventure completely to myself.  Time stopped whizzing by and the sun warmed my thoughts and bones.  Blissful.

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52and39/26 When The Lights Change


Relocating is an enormous hall of mirrors.  You’re a tourist and resident, a stranger and a statistic.


It’s four years since spaces were unexpectedly available in an Edinburgh school.  I was there at 9am the next day, in the mad last hours of term.  At noon my husband found a rental house that allowed pets.

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At the last minute, everything aligned.  Just two days before, I’d pretty much written the idea off.

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I took a photo every day for a year.  It kept me hungry for finding silver linings and stories.



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