Category Archives: Friendship

Hawks and angels

Nestled into steep woods on the slopes of a Cotswold valley stands a manor house built of stone the colour of pale honey. It has tall chimneys and gothic windows and a walled garden full of vegetables and fruit trees … Continue reading

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Ends of the earth

In summer 2003 I was invited to chair an event at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. The book in question was by a writer I knew and admired but had never met. The event was sponsored by a small Edinburgh … Continue reading

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The stories we tell

In the past month I’ve spent a week in Spain with a group of eight people on a The Stories We Tell course, and a week in the Northwest Highlands with a friend I’ve known for 45 years. At the … Continue reading

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A trip to Serendip

Serendipity, once voted the nation’s favourite word, is an increasingly frequent visitor in my life. It means a happy accident, or a pleasantly unexpected turn of events. The word was coined by Horace Walpole in the mid-18th century, after reading … Continue reading

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What love requires

Last time I mentioned the Night For Angus concert, a tribute to the life and music of fiddler Angus Grant, which takes place tomorrow at Glasgow’s Royal Concert Hall.  Yesterday, in preparation, I listened to a live recording of a … Continue reading

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Peaks and troughs

Six months ago I decided to take a break from A Few Kind Words. It was a spur of the moment decision, though one that had been brewing for a while. One Thursday afternoon I sat down at the usual … Continue reading

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Baby’s back

Maybe it’s an antidote to the continuing darkness – though it’s not quite as dark as this time last week – but I feel compelled to write about uplifting things at the moment. Last week it was wee Dougie and … Continue reading

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Wee Dougie

The light has returned at last, brought back to us by a cold north wind that has also brought with it hard frost and snow. Gone are the seemingly endless days of twilight and the interminable rain we’ve endured this … Continue reading

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Altchroskie

I first met my friend Pete Clark almost 25 years ago, shortly after we had moved into our house in Strathardle, one of Perthshire’s least known and prettiest glens. The house was called Altchroskie (‘alt’ means stream or burn in … Continue reading

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The stories we tell

Here is a story. Fifteen years ago, Catherine Lockerbie, then the literary editor of The Scotsman, was appointed director of the Edinburgh International Book Festival. For several years I had regularly written book reviews for her. We had also sat … Continue reading

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