Month: September 2015

A New View

And so, I’m sitting in the office.  My desk is somewhere between Isla’s crib and one of the bookcases.  I kinda like that.  Symbolism.  Or something. We moved up here with more than 17 boxes of books.  Yesterday was spent emptying them into the bookcases. In the old flat, I knew them so well, I almost didn’t see them.  Favourites and doorstops, old schoolbooks I can’t part with. Those have been moved to the loft. What I’m looking at now are books I’ve dipped into and others I haven’t started.  There’s also some notebooks, a rolled up penguin poster, our wedding invitation, and one of those colouring books for adults.  Which I haven’t started. Yet.  And for someone who has essentially moved back in with her parents, with her husband and their one year-old, in the same week as PMS, I’m surprised I haven’t had to break out my new coloured pencils.  Y’know, to etch bad words on my desk. I mean, to colour. In other news, we have local library cards.  Like I have any business reading a book that isn’t in this house already.  But we have library cards.  Because I don’t feel at home anywhere until I can go somewhere and get free books with clear covers on their covers. We left the building with a book on stargazing, because we can do that now.  Also...

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I Should Be Writing

And so, I’m sitting here in the kitchen. Today’s the first day out of the box for my computer, Truman Bubbles. If you look beyond the monitor, out the giant window, there’s trees. And thistle. On our first morning here, last Monday, we were serenaded by sheep. We’re not in Edinburgh any more. Isla’s been running up and down the hallway pushing her new walker thing. I’ve already removed the musical panel. The TV is obscured by other boxes. However, I’ve only managed to finish one of the books I brought up with me for the first week here. There’s been a lot of listening to music on my phone while parked between Isla and the boxes. I keep thinking I should be writing. When we were packing up the other place, I kept a notebook out, specifically for these days of flux. But I don’t know where it is now. Neil’s been making trips with the moving van and drove up for good on Tuesday. He missed a midnight picnic and I missed him. I’ve also missed our coffee machine. I’ve learned a few things about myself this past week. 1. I apologise way too much. b. I can no longer drink instant coffee. I won’t apologise for the coffee thing. See, this is me working on things. In other news, when I find that notebook, I’m going...

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Fresh Ink

Hi, my name’s (still, always) Lorna.  I used to write here.  And then I posted a bunch of photos of my kid.  Just so you’re not disappointed, here is a recent favourite: I made that.  Her name’s (still, always) Isla. She is now a year old.  She likes to eat watermelon and wet-wipes. She likes to read.  When she rips the pages from my library books, I trade her for something she can destroy.  Like the phone-bill. She likes to dance, and she laughs at me when I sing. Her first shoes are purple.  And last Saturday, she ran to her Daddy in bare feet. Sometimes, she sleeps.  And I like to watch her when she does.  It’s allowed, I’m her mother. In other news, the three of us are moving to Skye.  Isla and I heading up this Sunday so Neil can pack the rest of the flat without vehicles in the way. My thoughts about leaving Edinburgh change every five minutes, but I’m looking forward to being back on the right side of the Highland line. We’ll be sharing a house, a giant garden and a trampoline with my Dad and Anne. We’ll be trading our living-room view of the bus-stop for, well, something better than buses. We’re trading in the market downstairs and (trying to) grow our own food and brew our own beer. As for...

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