Tag: mary our lady

  • It’s Later than We Think

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    Drowning is a terrible way to die. An inescapable nightmarish ghoul-like vacant response to a desperate plea to live. Virtue signallers blind even to the blood screaming for help, perhaps even staining their police boots in the dark. So very in the dark. Platitudes, appeasements abound. Truth is subjective and we have backed a side.… Read more

  • The Holiday Mirage

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    My favourite holiday has changed 360 degrees. I remember those days of youth counting down the months, the weeks and then the days. Often to wake up at the crack of dawn on d day and feel an anti-climax. That would pass, overtaken by endless swimming, sunburn and freestyle eating. Travellers cheques were almost sacred,… Read more

  • A Satchel Full of Platitudes

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    I learned that history was neat and packaged.  No suggestion of Marxist interpretations nor Japanese interpretations.  Hitler acted completely alone. His propaganda duped a nation.  We were to feel sorry for them but rest assured that could never happen in Scotland.  Nor were harsh economic sanctions driving those who fell for Hitler. It was black… Read more

  • Life is Not a Lottery

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    When I am about to re-enter a dangerous situation and arrogantly presume I will get out again, my husband often retorts: “Aye Daniel was freed from the den of lions – but he didn’t go back for his bonnet!” This usually makes me laugh myself back to my senses. Not so for Lot’s wife, the… Read more

  • The Liberation of `NO’

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    I have learnt to say No from saying Yes. From crouching fetal-like in self-betrayal. Many times that happened until, by the Grace of God, the connection, the pattern became visible. Yes, it was my yes, that never should have been, that created feeling uncomfortable and unclean. I practised at first in front of a mirror… Read more

  • Highway to the Heights

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    “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic” To walk more every day, especially in the hills is something I would like to do. Walking teaches me. The rhythm, the fresh air, the sightseeing. Yes it’s therapeutic and so lovely discovering places the bus or car… Read more

  • The Godfather

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    `God’s’ That is the one word that describes me. After many prodigal years I found that out by accident. Killing time, staying uncomfortably, in someone else’s house I read the Footprints in the Sand poem which was in a clip frame in their bathroom. I could hardly avoid it as I brushed my teeth. I… Read more