52and40/30 True Colours

I’ve found so much in the Pentlands since moving to Edinburgh.  Beauty and calm, mostly.  Birds.  Space to walk and run out problems, too.  Places to be with the kids, to eat and talk.  The city’s wonderful but if I didn’t have something opposite to frame it, I’d appreciate it much less.

One 2016 day I found the remnants of a Nazi Training Camp in the Pentlands.  My intuition had told me something wasn’t right, I didn’t realise exactly what till I saw this, two weeks later.

Take nothing for granted, I guess.

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52and40/28 Ties That Bind

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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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52and40/20 Pigs Might Fly

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We took ourselves to Raasay in February.

A proper road trip – a long time in the car, sweets, music, stops for the dog to wee, chats about memories.  Maniacs in white vans, eye-spy and the name game.

Does it all sound perfect?

It wasn’t.  We fought, too.  There were hideous tensions as well as laughs and Kodak moments.  Families trying to keep growing together at the same time as letting kids grow up are like that, I reckon.  The wood of the construction makes different noises in different weather.

Roots and wings.

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52and40/14 Benediction

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We saw Collateral Beauty.  The film whisked me back ten years to a hell of a week.  Mum had been admitted to hospital in Aberdeen with a DVT.  My son had his sixth birthday party.  I hadn’t organised a thing for Halloween.

The morning after cobbled together trick or treating, Mum called from hospital and gently explained she had terminal cancer.

The world stopped as grief started.

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Who I’d been until then died with her and (slowly, painfully) a new gratitude for life was born.  Heather 2.0.  An unwanted, bittersweet fresh start.

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52and40/12 Venus in Tweeds 

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When the bloke I fancied told me he lived on a west coast island and ‘commuted’ to Aberdeen for work, I pictured Father Ted’s Manse and grimaced.

‘How can you bear it?’, I’d asked.  ‘The flatness?  The wind?’

He looked like I’d spoken in Spaniel.  The following week I understood.

Sapphire sea in a white sand bay. The perfect cottage.

Mountains, seals, dolphins.

Sunsets, the Milky Way, mornings to make you feel reborn.

Him, in an Acid Croft T-shirt.

‘What about the commute though?’, I’d asked.

He put on Shooglenifity and drove.  52and40-1

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52and40/10 Air In Your Hair

I’ve never seen a Scottish Autumn and Winter as beautiful, so far, as what 2016’s given.

The beauty in these seasons is going a long, gentle way to keeping breathing through the humanity shitstorm we’ve seen happen around the world this year.  It’s easier to believe we’re not all doomed when nature’s on its best behaviour.

As my own shield and sword, I’ve added focus to health and work ethic. These things help my locus of control  stay internal so fear doesn’t breed with downtime to create mischief.

Everything else is weather.

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52and40/9 (Shop) Local Hero

I’m dreaming of a non-line Christmas

Just like the ones we used to know

Where purses jingle

And footsteps mingle

And we all go shopping in the snow.

I’m also dreaming of a socio-political re-org for Scotland which ejects a Daily Mail state of mind for the rest of time.  And a plan for my big writing project more cohesive than, ‘yes, I might need to change the whole thing again.  Hmmmm.’

Clarity will come.  Meantime, the thing to fill the void with is art, air, light and laughter. And non-line shopping.

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