a gold dust glow (on possibility).

Sunday, August 31

So, you might've noticed that I’ve changed things about a little (design-wise) on the blog. A small tour: look up! I now have links at the top of the page. Look to your right: there are little social media buttons which you can click on. Scroll back to the top: the messy looking fake-shadow header is gone! I think it looks a bit more like a proper blog now. (What do you think?)


On the subject of change, here’s something I’ve noticed recently: it is possible. Change, I mean. Change is possible. Here’s how I know it: 

I used to hate ginger* and now I don’t.

After years of feeling queasy at the thought, I’ve started enjoying ginger beer... and Three Ginger Tea has risen up the ranks to become my favourite herbal tea (as I described it recently in a letter: ‘it’s very warming and leaves a tingle like gold dust at the back of your throat’).


Other things I used to hate and now don’t include: mushrooms, uncooked tomatoes, coriander, and red onions**. I now love all of these things (deeply. In a moment of unchecked sincerity, I recently told my brother: ‘I’m really passionate about mushrooms’. He laughed quite a lot. I suppose it was sort of an odd thing to say in retrospect). These changes are encouraging. They give me hope.


If my taste-buds can change their opinions on coriander – moving from a place of disgust (‘it tastes like sick’) to one of near-fervour (‘we must have it with EVERYTHING’***) – then maybe other parts of me can change. 


Like: my inability to hear alarms in the morning or the way my first instinct is usually to hide from/pretend not to notice people I’ve been hoping to speak to when I see them on the street (o! shyness, you wily fiend). Things like: my phobia of insects, or the issues I have finding shoes that fit, or the way I fall in love with impossible notions, or my habit of leaving things to the last minute. Maybe. We’ll see...

(NB. My feelings towards marmite will never change. Gross black salty concoction.)


(Pictures snapped on my iPhone. Notes:

*I’m talking about ginger, as in ginger-the-foodstuff, not ‘carbonated drinks’ or ‘individuals with red hair and freckles’.

**I still don’t really like raw red onions, but this has more to do with the way they linger powerfully on the breath post-eating than their actual flavour.

***Everything especially includes: chilli con carne, fajitas, and chicken and mushroom curry.)

a day at the festival.

Monday, August 11

I had the weekend off work, so on Saturday decided to take a trip through to Edinburgh with my parents for the Fringe festival. There's such an amazing carnival-like atmosphere in the city just now (much helped on Saturday by the sun who graced us with her gleaming presence)! 




With all the colour and excitement, it seemed a good excuse to bring out my ‘proper’ camera. I’m still at a loss how to work all the buttons so I have the settings at ‘auto’ most of the time. But the pictures turned out quite good nevertheless so I thought I'd pop a few on here.



We went to see three plays (one: The Seussification of a Midsummer Night’s Dream which was just what it sounds like: Shakespeare as told through Dr. Seuss language. I laughed quite a lot. Two: Starchild: the Little Prince Reborn – an original adaptation of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince. Also really good, and quite beautiful in parts. It just took a moment to get over my surprise that the story was told via interpretive dance...




And three: The Great Gatsby – it was an impulse decision to go and see this after we were handed a flyer by a girl in 20’s costume who was perched on the shoulders of a guy in a suit. It turned out to be quite spectacular). My favourite parts of the day were probably the in-between bits when we walked around the streets – especially up and down the Royal Mile – seeing and taking pictures of (and with*) the street performers. 





At one point in the afternoon, my mum and I were stopped by a leaflet-hander-outer who tried to encourage us to come along to her 'very funny play about sex-education in schools'. After speaking to us for a moment, she glanced at me, and then leaned closer to my mum to reassure her, 

'It'll be suitable for your daughter. Don't worry.' 

I did feel the need to tell her I am 23 ('actually'). Ha! My shortness and baby-face continually lead to people thinking I'm about 14 years old. It's supposedly a good thing (so people keep telling me. Being on the receiving end of a lot of semi-patronising remarks though, I'm not so sure). 

Later on I decided to embrace my 'youthfulness' and buy a wreath of flowers for my hair from a lady who had loads of them hooped up her arms. Why not, eh? Might as well.





*At another point, this girl (with the gloves) swept past me in the street. Following close behind were seven others laughing and dressed in elegant gowns and suits. Curiosity sparked, I decided to follow them, pushing through the crowd to see what they were advertising. A few moments later, they stopped in the middle of the street to get their picture taken. I still don't know what show they were in (it was their last day anyway, apparently)... but they looked beautiful. And when they said: 'Who wants to come in the picture?' I thought again: 'Hey, why not?' So that's how I ended up photo-bombing their picture.  







Love this. Only in Edinburgh...



Mm, a jolly nice day. For visitors to Scotland, the last few weeks must have been pretty amazing. It’s been wonderfully sunny. And warm – I’ve gone without my coat for almost a full month (currently sitting with a hot water bottle though. The chilliness is back). And so much has been happening: the Fringe, the Edinburgh International Book Festival, and the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow (which I didn’t watch too much of, not being sporty in the least. But the happenings on the streets while I was walking to university were fun to see: magicians, face-painters, swing dancing, jazz bands, etc.). 



Ah, it is a pretty cool place to live. Just a pity that most of the time it’s still represented (and represents itself) as Tartan, Haggis and Bagpipes ‘r’ Us.

words (and type) I've been liking.

Saturday, July 26







All found via Pinterest, but I've tried to trace down the image sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

There are lots of others I like... but I don't quite trust the attribution. E.g. 'In case you ever foolishly forget; I am never not thinking of you' are lovely words with a nice rhythm that apparently belong to Virginia Woolf. I'd like her to have said them... but when I tried to hunt down the exact source of them in her writing the trail went cold (I'm going to keep looking though). 

Ditto to: 'And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music'. I like the sentiment, but this quote is attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche. They might be his words but, from what I've read about him, I'm not sure they're a very Nietzsche-ish thing to say. If anyone knows otherwise though, then do let me know

I smiled.

Tuesday, July 22


The other morning in the cafe, while I was wiping a table clean, I overheard a customer saying the word shenanigans to his son. 

‘He’s been up to his usual shenanigans...’

Shenanigans is a good enough word in itself (in fact, I’d forgotten all about it till I heard him using it. I want to try and slip it into a sentence soon). What made the word even better was the customer’s accent


He’s got a voice that sounds a little like Sean Connery (in that he prnounshesh hish wordsh like thish – by way of an exshplanashion). So the word actually came out like: she-nani-ginsshhh.

I smiled.



[These pictures are from my birthday earlier this month. While I wasn’t completely excited about turning 23 (I don’t feel tall enough to merit the age), I was glad about saying goodbye to being 22 (my least favourite year so far). And it was such a lovely day. 


Going to a Play, a Pie and a Pint at the Oran Mor, wandering round the Botanic Gardens, hearing the rain hissing on the glass roof (for just a few minutes), eating a delicious picnic that my Mum had wrapped in brown paper and string (Salad Niçoise tiger-bread baguettes; goats’ cheese, pecan and roast pepper sandwiches; hummus, tomato and avocado thins; Italian lemonade; Kettle crisps; strawberries...) 


...catching sight of a black butterfly with whispering wings, sitting on a picnic rug in the park watching wedding photographers, enjoying a big fried breakfast-for-dinner back at home (why not?). A day full of eating: my favourite sort.]


(Listening to Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps by Doris Day while writing this today.)
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