Murmur-ations

Living in the countryside and with no street lights, autumn and winter evenings are really dark. So dark, you can’t see your hand in front of your face without a torch. But between finishing work and eating with the family, I’m sometimes found on the sofa, tucked up inside a fleecy blanket and the fire on; my evening lit up by a book. My next opportunity comes at bedtime, but only if I stay awake! I can sometimes sneak in another read as I wait for the bus or in the car as my daughter finishes Scouts. When I lived in London, I would often carry a book to rid myself of the monotony of the tube train commute. Reading, can at times, appear to be a totally selfish and guilty pleasure. Done rarely in company apart from a cheeky packet of crisps or a glass of wine. But it’s our time for escape, relaxation and learning; it can even open up a conversation with a stranger. So, my question is … when do you like to read?  Photo by  David Lezcano  on  Unsplash

At a recent orchestral concert in Edinburgh with my family, I changed the way I applauded the musicians. When I was 30, a boyfriend told me that I clapped ‘like a seal’. To keep the peace between us, I changed the way I clapped. But he wasn’t the first emotionally abusive relationship I had been in. When I was 19, I thought I had met a mature and sophisticated 25 year old man. But as with all abusive relationships, the fairy tale turned into a grim one. If it wasn’t for my friends, I wouldn’t have had the initial courage to leave both these relationships. At that Edinburgh concert, my daughter pointed out that I no longer had to clap the way my ex-boyfriend had wanted me to. And so, I clapped the way I liked to.  Big loud handfuls of claps.  And it felt good. Photo  © Paula Gilfillan. All Rights Reserved.

My family and I recently came home from our summer holiday in France. From the Scottish countryside to the Normandy countryside. But what I wasn’t expecting was the emotional connection I'd feel as we drove along the equivalent of our B roads and when we visited the areas involved in the D-Day landings and western advance in 1944.   Poppies blossomed in fields where shelling on both sides was rife. The drainage ditches where soldiers would have hidden and fought were still in use by local farmers. The skeletal remains of the temporary bridges the allies constructed to cross the meandering creeks were still visible. The sand on the D-Day beaches contains microscopic WWII munition debris.   The picture I took at Pointe du Hoc, which is shown below, really sums up the dichotomy of what I saw. The sun was out, butterflies lazily fluttered by me and waves lapped the beach. It was idyllic. Yet, there was still barbed wire along the cliff edge, and what you cannot see behind ...

This year, I had a writing bucket list moment. The opportunity to work for the BBC as a first tier judge for their 500 Words children's writing competition. And what an opportunity it was. As I know myself, it takes a lot of effort to write a story, and then to take that next step to submit it to be judged by a stranger is not an easy decision. But I was delighted that each child took that next step and that I was accepted to take on this important role for the age range of 5 to 9 year olds. So that all stories were judged on an equal basis, I was given a five-point judging criteria of: originality, characterisation, plot, use of creative language and level of enjoyment. Tips and guidance by famous children's authors were also provided to all the judges. I was told not to judge the stories on their quality of spelling, grammar or punctuation as it was all about the story content. I then had to score each criteria out of 10; these were then totalled for each story and sent ...

After a morning of writing, I rewarded myself with a walk around Eskrigg Nature Reserve in Lockerbie this afternoon. This beautiful place has been the inspiration behind much of my writing: The Dragon of Annandale (a short story published in Lockerbie Writers’ Anthology in 2016) and Eskrigg Murmurations (a poem published in The Annandale Herald in 2019), for a start. The Dragon of Annandale tells of how a dragon, who lives at Eskrigg, invents the sport of curling with the help of his woodland friends and a fairy from the island of Ailsa Craig. If you didn’t know already, Lockerbie is famous for curling, its stones crafted from the rock of Ailsa Craig (which is Gaelic for ‘fairy rock’). Hope you can see the connection? I am delighted to say that my story is read to any pre-school visitors to Eskrigg by the reserve ranger. Eskrigg Murmurations It’s dawn, and swans silently sweep the pond dampening boisterous behaviour from ducks and patrolling the banks for wayward drago...

I was having a duvet day; the first one in two years. I was feeling sorry for myself. Then my husband told me that a certain online bookstore was offering a £5 voucher if you spent over £25. Then I also remembered I had an unspent voucher with the same online store; a birthday present from my Dad. 💡 After ten minutes of salivating over loads of books, I narrowed my choice down to my favourite author, Margaret Atwood. Simple. I could pre-order her forthcoming sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale: The Testaments. BUT NO!!!!!! It wasn’t going to arrive until September! 😢 Right. I’ll look for another Margaret Atwood novel, I thought. It didn’t take me long. The Heart Goes Last – the story of a couple living destitute in their car, who are then offered a home in a new town. Great! But every second month they have to live in a prison. Fab! … I love a bit of dysfunctional society fiction. Mmm … I then felt a pang for a bit of Scottish lit. I’d seen the 1998 film, Acid House, years ago and ...

Procrastination is defined by the Oxford dictionary as ‘ The action of delaying or postponing something’.  I didn’t learn about the word procrastination until I was 17 and studying A-level history; the Elizabethan politicians and The Pope at the time were very good at procrastinating, and each for their own political gain. I have realised that I procrastinate a lot.  About writing, ironing (that’s a given) and even what to have for dinner (watching the newborn lambs in the field at the back of my house does put me off having lamb chops for tea).  It has hindered me, but equally, it has saved me at times.  So, I’ve decided not to be so hard on myself and allow a set period of ‘procrastination time’; usually 10 minutes in the evening and sometimes in the morning as well. This is perfect for Facebook surfing, downloading music from YouTube and Googling for information.  I prefer to call it my ‘downtime’.  After that, I am ready to go back to the work, wr...