Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Blue

For this week’s stream of consciousness saturday prompt Linda has given us the challenge to post about the first blue object we see when we sit down to write. Not difficult in the sense that I’m sitting propped up on our bed with my laptop on my knee, on a checked blue and white duvet cover. And there’s also a blue floral-ish patterned carpet in the room as well as blue floral curtains – my husband and I are temporarily staying with my parents, sleeping in what is commonly called ‘the blue bedroom’ for obvious reasons!

It’s all done out in a nice dark denim-to-navy blue palette, and the walls and woodwork and furniture are all painted white. There are three rugs, two plain white and one blue flowered. There’s actually a bit too much floral pattern on the carpet and curtains for my liking, but they’re very much my mum’s generational taste of appropriate spare bedroom decor and I’ve certainly seen (and been in!) a lot worse.

I realise from my description it all sounds quite plain and stark (just blue and white) but there are also myriad old books and fussy ornaments and fiddly little nick-nacks cluttering up every available surface, which I’ve tried tactfully to reduce while we’re here to make space for some of our own everyday belongings, so there are also cardboard boxes now full of bits and pieces – some of mum’s, some of ours – neatly stacked around the edges of the room.

This particular gingham check duvet cover was actually our choice, there are several other (distinctly flowery) alternatives available in the linen cupboard but we’ve decided this one suits us best for now. We’ve also got our own bright yellow quilted bedspread folded down across the bottom of the bed, and the woven cane chair in the corner of the room has several of my cotton scarves draped over it, in reds and pinks and mulitcoloured tie-dye, so that gives a real splash of bright colour to our immediate surroundings.

I do like blue, I find it a really calming colour so considering we’re living in someone else’s house for now I’m absolutely fine with our room just as it is. But however grateful we are to mum and dad for letting us stay with them for the time being, oh how we long for our own home again, our own space and the freedom to live our own particular lifestyle choices every day without constant comment or criticism and being left feeling weird and wrong for being different to my parents.

So there we are for today, my rather random blue-topic post written on my blue-covered bed in my blue bedroom – The End! 🙂


Stream of Consciousness Saturday: ‘Co-‘

Yeah I know, it’s Sunday again and I’m only now getting round to my Stream of Consciousness Saturday post. But in my defense the wi-fi connection here at my mum and dad’s is not the best at the best of times, so I get frustrated and don’t bother half the time.

Anyway, yesterday we went for a walk along the shore at Fort George, which was built after the end of the Jacobite Rebellion and the Battle of Culloden in 1745, when Bonnie Prince Charlie and his co-conspiritors had tried (unsuccessfully) to regain the British throne for the House of Stuart from King George II.

Fort George first opened its heavy studded doors in 1749, long after the Jacobite threat had subsided, and is still occupied by the British Army today. Here’s a couple of pics from around the entrance and outside of the Fort 🙂

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Where

Where have I been hiding for the last couple of weeks, some of you may have been wondering? I realise I kind of just dropped off the edge of the blogosphere without a word of warning and haven’t really made much of an appearance here since. But don’t worry, I’m still here, you won’t get rid of me that easily!

The good news is my husband and I have finally sold our flat in London – third time lucky – and as of 31st July we have moved back to Scotland to live. We’ve not actually bought a new house yet, but are avidly house-hunting here in Inverness and in the meantime we’re staying with my mum and dad nearby until we find something we like.

It feels a bit odd camping out in someone else’s spare room at our age, but we’re incredibly grateful to have the option to have some breathing space between selling one property and buying another. Conveyancing processes vary hugely between English and Scottish law, making it incredibly difficult to both sell in England and buy in Scotland at the same time, so this seemed to be the perfect temporary solution.

Luckily for us it suits mum and dad to have us here for the time being too – with dad still recovering from his fourth stroke it gives mum a bit of breathing space too to have us around, and it seems they both appreciate the extra help with dad’s ongoing care, which is great for all of us right now.

We had initially put our leasehold flat on the market in the spring of 2017, but soon realised we would ideally have to extend our lease to make a good return on the property, so withdrew it from sale after only a few weeks to complete the lease extension process. Unfortunately for us that took 13 long months of legal wrangling with a difficult-to-deal-with freeholder to achieve.

And so in the summer of 2018, complete with lease extension, we put the flat on the market again, and soon found a buyer who was happy to offer the price we were looking for – so far, so good. But unfortunately six weeks into the sale process our buyer was made redundant and therefore withdrew his offer before the contract was signed. That was such a huge blow for us, and we felt so devastated we took the flat off the market again, to lick our wounds and regroup…

And so on to this year – with a great deal of trepidation and inevitable caution we warily put the flat back on the market again in the early spring, where we soon found a brand new buyer who absolutely fell in love with our flat, and this time thankfully the sale process has now completed successfully – woo-hoo!

So here we are back in Scotland, my husband and I, right back to the area where we first met 46 years ago, ready to start a brand new adventure in our life together. Wish us luck with our house-hunting, and hopefully the perfect home is out there waiting for us to find it, although for now we’re not entirely sure exactly where! 🙂

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Where

Something to Chew Over…

Actions to do with eating and digesting seem to occur quite often as metaphors in the English language. We swallow down our disappointments, get our teeth into difficult tasks, find we can’t stomach distasteful things, are sick of other things, digest information and are accused of having verbal diarrhoea if we talk too much. Something to chew over on a Saturday morning… 🙂

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Chew/ Choo

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: For/ Fore/ Four

For the longest time I’ve wanted to be able to take particular pictures of specific people, not just general photographs that happen to have people in them. It’s just something I tend to feel really uncomfortable about, the whole idea of taking pictures of members of the public, and it’s a topic I’ve posted about before, here and here

Today I was walking past a row of Victorian terraced houses not far from home and saw a workman inside tidying up around the edges of an empty window frame in a front bay window. I had my camera in my hand so was brave enough to take a shot, and then another…

And then he saw me, so I smiled at him and asked him to give me a smile for the camera, which he did… ta-da!

So this is my second deliberate environmental portrait of someone at work – the first was this young lad cooking paella at Borough Market a few weeks ago…

Although I did once accidentally manage to catch someone in their everyday work environment smiling for my camera – he just happened to look up and smile and wave as I clicked to take the shot of the whole scene, so that doesn’t really count as a proactive one-to-one encounter for me, as I didn’t actually have to interact with him to capture the shot. Here’s the aforementioned wave from a friendly shoe repair guy anyway…

OK, so maybe I’ll be nice to myself and allow it to count as three in total, as I did actually take the shot instead of mumbling an apology of sorts and running away in embarrasment… now to work up to finding a suitable subject for environmental portrait number four! 🙂

Stream of consciousness Saturday

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Rhymes with Rosy

I was born along the North East coast of Scotland, in a world where the Doric dialect was spoken. My mum went to a posh school in Aberdeen so always spoke ‘proper’ English, but my dad went to an ordinary secondary school and spoke mainly Doric – in fact, at 83, he still speaks Doric with family and fellow Aberdonians, but has since tempered his everyday accent to be better understood in the Inverness area he has lived in for the last 50 years or so.

Anyway, the point of the little family history lesson is that I mainly associate hearing an abundance of beautifully descriptive Doric with my early childhood memories, and oh, the wonderful words I miss these days! Because as well as the accent affecting how many easily distinguishable English words are spoken, at times Doric seems to have a completely different vocabulary all of its own. For example, I remember very rounded old ladies always wanting to give you a ‘bosie’ – the kind of cuddle that hugs you tight to their bosom (which presumably is where the word originated).

Other great Doric words I remember from childhood include ‘oxters’ for armpits, and all the Doric men I knew would be wearing a ‘sark’ and a ‘semmit’ – a shirt and a vest – and of course their work trousers would all be held up with ‘galluses’ – braces (suspenders). To be ‘drookit’ is to be soaked through and ‘clarty’ is dirty (I was a real tomboy, and if there was water or mud nearby I’d inevitably fall in, so remember hearing those particular words with regularity).

To ‘birl’ (rhymes with girl) is to spin around really fast (usually until you get dizzy) and to ‘dirl’ is to vibrate – like when you get a ‘skelp’ across the ‘lug’ (a smack on the ear) it gives you a ‘right dirl’. Not to be confused with the love-it-or-hate-it ‘skirl’ of the bagpipes though! If you’re ‘scunnered’ you’re fed up, and if you ‘canna thole’ something you can’t tolerate it, and to be ‘fair tricket’ is to be delighted. Hmmm… Probably best to stop there before I get myself into a right ‘bourach’ (or mess!).

So there we are, that was my random, rambling Stream of Consciousness Saturday post brought to you today by ‘bosie’, my slightly off-the-wall word that rhymes beautifully with rosy 🙂