Tuesday 28th December 2010 We say we’ll be on the road by 10.00. It is noon before we set off. I am wedged in the backseat between some bags, two tires and Sarge. By 3.00, I have lost feeling in my ass. I find it again when twisting to take photos through the windows. My father has never been good at time-keeping. The fact that he has his own time zone is part of his charm. We always get where…
We went back to Glasgow last weekend to help Dad and Anne decorate their tree and see some friends. The younger-than-us people sitting across from us on the train thought we were Mormon, because of Sarge’s beard. We figured they meant Amish, but further figured they were too drunk to compare and contrast. We arrived in Glasgow laughing and cold, with some doughnuts to test on my people. The second batch looked more like doughnuts. So much more that Sarge…
The American in me wants to have pumpkin pie later on today and cold turkey sandwiches tomorrow. I am the kind of person who believes thanks aren’t just for Thanksgiving. But in the spirit of the day, I’m going to share what I am thankful for this year. My list every year is quite simple. It doesn’t take much to make me happy, and I’m appreciative of what I have every day of the year. That being said, these things…
And so, I switch off the computer and my eyes fall on my favourite chair. Currently piled with duvets and a guitar, it is wedged between a loveseat and a laundry rack. A penguin is perched on the loveseat, propped up by pillows and the last publically visible box in the house. This is half of the office. The half I can conveniently turn my back on while typing. But I miss the chair. It started out as my Grandfather’s…
