Bullet Point Are all repeated acts what make me who I am? It seems so, with the changes I make just being added to the list. Even if I scratch one off, there are always more to add. The clothes I won’t throw away The perfume I rarely use The overused baking tray and my Read More
The Library is on the first floor of the House. It is a long, narrow room with a fireplace at either end, yet despite its odd shape it is both welcoming and intimate. It has comfy chairs, covered with faded chintzy flowers, and flattened, feather-filled cushions that are inviting to readers on damp afternoons. The Read More
If I were a painter I should paint these first impressions in pale yellow, silver, and green. (Virginia Woolf) [1] Blue I can paint my earliest memory in blue – my memory of the jam jar I dropped at my parents’ feet after being so certain I Read More
Know my name A name is a fickle thing. For me, it’s a way for people to get my attention; for others, it is me. For my part, I don’t think of myself as ‘Craig’. I answer to it, but I don’t like it. I’ve heard it remarked that it is a ‘good Scottish Read More
Building A House I have always been taken with the word ‘stanza.’ It has to do with its architectural etymology. It comes from the Italian word for ‘room’ and upon learning this, I thought: of course. Aren’t all great works of poetry just like houses? Or hotels? Buildings? Be it drawn from the Read More
I say to my daughters never trust March for its joy comes in a quarter but takes full month’s charge January 13, 1991 The Soviet Union president demands the restoration of the USSR constitution in Lithuania. When the Lithuanian government disagrees, tanks and trucks with armed soldiers fill city streets. The Lithuanian prime minister Read More
language – mass noun 1. The method of human communication, either spoken or written, consisting of the use of words in a structured and conventional way. 2. A system of communication used by a particular country or community. 3. The style of a piece of writing or speech. The version of me that exists Read More
When you are a child born in one place and raised in another, ‘home’ is complicated. Even more so, when ‘home’ is a series of couches, hotel rooms, borrowed apartments, and rented houses. ‘Home’ is something that belongs to your mother, gifted to you through pictures and stories, the folklore of her youth. It is Read More
Stranger he sits on the very edge of the bench legs crossed hands on his knees fingers strongly knitted together his whole body bends to the front it seems as he was just about to get up and go but forgot about it his hair is grey almost white his skin is tired nose off-colour Read More
My first attempt was on the 4th of February 2017. We arrived at the bothy and settled onto the wooden slats for the night in a hut that sleeps ten. I think there were fifteen of us. The next morning’s cold crept into our sleeping bags, and the bustle of rucksack-packing and lunch-making sprung life Read More
