Dreams and goals

Man, mud and jeeps – a reflection on human perseverance

I spent Christmas away from home – very far away. On Christmas Eve, I lay awake most of the night listening to the hyenas scrabbling at the canvas of our tent. On Christmas Day, I lay just as awake, listening to the two lions that roared in chorus (or maybe they were roaring AT each …

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My Next Big Thing – religious conflict in Lowland Scotland

When Barbara Gaskell Denvil asked me if I wanted to participate in the Next Big Thing ”bloghop”, I was thrilled – and intimidated. Now the funny thing about Barbara nominating me, is that our main characters share a name. Her Alex (in Satin Cinnabar) is a man attempting to find his feet in a society  …

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May thy slumber be blessed

There’s a poem I particularly love that’s called Canción de Cuna (Lullaby) by Juan Ramón Jimenez, a Spanish poet. No; dormida no te beso. Tú me has dado tu alma con tus ojos abiertos -o jardín estrellado- a tu cuerpo. No, dormida no eres tú…No, no, no te beso! …Infiel te fuera a ti si …

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No rest for the weary

Is it only me, or are more and more of us living lives that balance on a cutting edge? So much to do, so many social media to keep up with, and so very little time … Of course, we have as much time now as people did fifty years ago, or a century ago. …

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Making my day

There are various rewards to writing, starting with the exotic experience of being sucked into a fantasy world of one’s own creation. I suspect all authors experience moments of such utter absorption everyday life becomes a fuzzy noise in the background, an inconsequential little irritant in an existence that is entirely focused on the story …

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Pavlov’s dogs and all that

Whenever I approach my house, I am overtaken by an urge to pee. I insert my key into the lock and have to twist my legs together – entirely ridiculous as quite often there should be no such need. Into the hallway, kick off shoes, dump my rucksack and after setting yet another new record …

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The generation that never was

There’s a poem by Swedish Nobel Laureate Pär Lagerkvist that deals with death and afterlife, in which he rather sadly states that “soon it will all be taken from me; the trees, the clouds, the ground upon which I tread. I will wander on alone, leaving not the slightest trace.” But people do leave imprints …

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The landscapes of the past

One of my favourite pastimes is to visit old churches. Not the fancy, huge Cathedrals, but rather the small, dilapidated churches that so generously dot our continent. The gate to the graveyard might squeak (or yet it might not, the hinges kept oiled by some diligent soul), headstones stand in ordered rows that degenerate to …

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Hold on tight to your dreams – note to self on my birthday

“Dream, dream, dream … dream, dream, dream.” Somewhat lame lyrics, and yet once upon a time this was one of my favourite songs (“Whenever I need you all I have to do is dream” sang Donny Osmond and my toes curled). Since then I’ve progressed (for a while there it was “Acroche toi a ton …

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