Some way past Ellon, following the now muddy path which the Formartine and Buchan Way had become after a night and a day of successive bands of thunder storms, I asked her: "So, this walk of ours, from Aberdeen to Mill of Aden, if it's something of a pilgrimage as you suggest, then why are … Continue reading Drostan’s Tears
The first time I actually spent money on a piece of furniture was while living in Fez, Morocco. The estate agent had given a few days to running us around town in his old Renault 4, showing us one grand apartment or villa after another. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe that this young … Continue reading My first piece of furniture
So there we stood, a little past 8:00 on a windy but dry Tofino morning. Gathered around us was an ever thickening crowd of runners of all shapes and sizes and, no doubt, experience. Renata was nervous; she had done this the year before and knew what to expect from a marathon. As for me, … Continue reading Edge to Edge, Tofino to Ucluelet
My father was of the generation of WASP men for whom cooking was decidedly a woman's task. He could make a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich and could even make you believe it was a feast, but beyond that he never learned to prepare any food at all. Being my father's son, I left … Continue reading A good meal
This past week we reached a milestone in our nuclear family of six: for the first time ever we are all employed to a lesser or greater extent. In keeping with the times, most of us are working part-time. But we have jobs none-the-less; something to be thankful for in these economically troubled times. The … Continue reading Jobs
Today at dinner Renata and I were listening to that wonderful bossa nova album of Stan Getz and João Gilberto from 1963, known widely for its most famous track The Girl from Ipanema. Singing along, with the little Portuguese I still have left, one thing led to another and before long I was shedding a quiet … Continue reading Tributo á amizade
We live just around the corner from a barber shop, where I have my hair cut about every 6 weeks. It's one of those old-fashioned places which operates without appointments; as you wait your turn you can help yourself to coffee and the daily newspaper. No donuts though. I've been a regular customer for five … Continue reading Haircut
