If I don’t write something here soon I fear I’ll never write anything here again.
But the thing I want to write about nobody wants to read. I don’t want anyone to read it. I especially don’t want my family to read it in case I write it wrong.
But I want to write it so maybe I’ll go do it somewhere else.
Even if nobody ever reads it.
I lost my sister at the beginning of this month. And that sounds so selfish to even say…. “I lost…”. My nieces lost their Mum, my parents lost their youngest daughter. And lost is far too gentle a word anyway, such a stupid word, like if we only tried a bit harder we’d find her. But we’re all struggling to use the “d” word or the “k” word, so lost will have to do.
I have so many things I want to write somewhere, partly for myself, partly for when my nieces are grown and wonder if their memories are right. But for now all I can say is I lost my sister.
And it’s shit.
The advice bit: if you haven’t already done so, make a will.
I’ve been channelling Ellen Griswold these last few days.
I have a little (quite long) list of places I’d like to visit here in Scotland. I’ve only lived here for all but 2 of my 40-plus years and it’s not a huge country (well it would be if you flattened it out) so it’s shocking how little of it I have seen.
I’m rather attached to plumbing you see…. and roads. If I’m ever to reach some of the more far flung little pins I’ve stabbed into Google Earth I may have to get over that (and some hills).
Over three days this week I’ve crossed a few places off my list, but it’s been whistle stop. Much of what I have gazed on I only realised I was gazing at through the window of the car and not my camera when I got home and unloaded my cards.
Commando Memorial, Lochaber
I’ll tell you something for nothing, they’re gie protective of this loch’s edge. There’s nowhere to capture a good photo south of Castle Urquhart and I was damned if we were paying £40 to get into that ruin.
Actually it’s Cille Choirill Church. It’s on such a high and steep slope you can see the outline of the coffins…. just like beds…. folk waiting to get up….
Bonnie enough for two I think….
There should be a rule banning folk from wearing red when visiting and spoiling the photos.
Ach bonnie enough for three maybe?
I can’t believe I didn’t get a photo of the Skye Bridge. Too busy getting excited at the big Co-Op in Kyle of Lochalsh cos it stocked d’Arenberg wine….
Marsco on the right apparently.
Sunset over the Western Isles
Actual seat of the Clan McLeod as opposed to the fairytale version in Highlander.
Children & Cuillans
You make your entertainment I guess, where the only radio station that can be picked up is BBC Gaelic and half the population appears to be English!
Back on the mainland between Mallaig and Arisaig….
When she sees water there were be paddling
When they see dunes there will be jumping
We saw this….
On the way to see this…
Tho somebody was getting fed up…
Ben Nevis was shrouded in cloud and I could barely keep my eyes open over Rannoch Moor, but apart from that… a few ticked off my list.
I have a job.
An out of the home paid in real money job.
I guess it was always a possibility what with me applying for them and all, but I’d sort of set my heart on a 9:30-14:30 be home when school’s out sort of job.
But I didn’t get any of those.
They are out there.
So a 39 hour week beckons.
Nine hours a day away from my fridge….. YAY!
Nine hours a day away from the bomb-site of a home I can barely keep on top of even without a job…. oh heck!
I have two weeks to acclimatise the children to a new regime.