As the winter solstice drew (though perhaps “blew” might be more appropriate, given the gale currently howling outside) to a close tonight, Yours Truly realised with not a little concern that the annual epistle was still just a faint twinkle in her keyboard’s eye. Of course, the resultant panic could have induced a severe case of writer’s block, but happily this potentially serious state of affairs was averted by the fortuitous discovery of a box of Cadbury’s chocolates left here earlier this evening by a kind tutee. Suitably fortified, I now feel ready to dish the dirt report on the Sparrowholding entourage’s exploits of the past 12 months.
Perhaps one of the disadvantages of the daughterly duo living in the deep south is that news now tends to be scarce; however, when you’re a writer by profession, lack of facts fortunately presents no impediment when it comes to penning a good tale. DD1 (25) appears to be relishing the cut and thrust of the legal world and has decided – possibly more through necessity than by choice – that sleep is a seriously overrated hobby. Consequently, during the wee sma’ hours she is often to be found shunning the decadent delights of her duvet in favour of marginally less alluring missives and memoranda – apparently sleep deprivation is no problem when you’re powered by Matcha powder. [Note to self: must buy some.] On the rare occasions that she sees London in the daylight, DD1 is an enthusiastic defender at a London Hockey Club, having decided to hang up her rugby kit in case her legal clients were put off by black eyes on a Monday morning.
DD2 (23) moved to the capital last year as well, there to pursue the fascinating profession of film music supervision, and has been cutting her teeth on the music for the Channel 4 series Aliens plus a recent Netflix series called Lovesick (previously charmingly titled Scrotal Recall). This season, she also joined the same hockey club as her big sister and, during one match, took it upon herself to explain the rules of the game to an umpire who seemed not to be familiar with them … [Just as well she knows a good lawyer!] DD2’s current residence is an 11th-floor flat, where she spends her leisure time enjoying breathtaking views of the London skyline while lazing in a hot-tub located on the flat’s rooftop balcony. [Yes, it sucks to be living in London, doesn’t it ... ? We console ourselves by imagining how much pollution she must be inhaling!]
In the spring Son&Heir, who turned 21 in April, ventured to the Jungle camp in Calais as a volunteer putting up tents (only discovering en route home that he’d taken the wrong passport …), and in May he left his job at a trendy Edinburgh vegetarian café to go travelling. [NB: Yours Truly may soon be employed by the UN peace-keeping force after acquiring valuable experience while sharing a dinner table with a stubborn hubby who thinks he hasn’t actually eaten unless red meat was involved and a vehemently vegetarian son.] The wanderer duly set off for South America in May and began by volunteering for a month in an orphanage in Cusco, Peru. Prior to his departure, he perfected his juggling skills – primarily to teach the youngsters at the orphanage, but apparently also so he could create a photo opportunity by perching on a wall on one leg high above Machu Picchu while juggling [Warning: do not try this at home.] Our aspiring clown then headed for Honduras to volunteer at an iguana sanctuary on the tiny island of Utila. Rumours that iguanas have since been spotted juggling mangos in the mangroves have not yet been confirmed.
HunterGatherer still spends much of his working life collecting tonnes of soil from fields all across Scotland and depositing it on our garage floor. He claims that it all goes into sample bags, but as the garage seems permanently carpeted in a deep layer of damp Scottish loam, I remain to be convinced! Having been sadly sidelined from many hockey matches this year by a niggling hamstring injury (MRI pending), he has turned his attentions to less physical pursuits, namely agate spotting and gold panning. So far he’s found an assortment of attractive agates but (quelle surprise!) no glittering gold.
The green Astro-pastures of the hockey pitch are still proving irresistible for Yours Truly – even after her recent relegation to the back of the pitch (just possibly owing to the fact that some of the forwards are virtually young enough to be her grandchildren!). Keen to combat the effects of the highly sedentary writerly lifestyle, she has also added a new physical pursuit to her weekly sporting regime: Zumba. How amazing to discover at the ripe old age of 53 that there is, after all, something at which she is even worse than maths. Her street cred dipped even lower (is that possible?) this year during a visit to Laandon when, on being instructed by a daughter to flash her credit card at the underground barrier, she asked anxiously, “But how will the machine know where I want to get off?”
That brings to a conclusion this rapid overview of the year – which only leaves me, in time-honoured tradition, to send you warm festive greetings for Christmas together with every good wish for health and happiness in the New Year ahead.
Slàinte mhath from all of us to all of you, wherever you may be!
Unusually, HunterGatherer was working close to home last week, so between proofreading and tutoring missions I grabbed the opportunity to get some fresh air into my lungs and strolled along to the field where he was putting up a fence for our new neighbours-to-be. As you'll see, he had dressed for the part and was ready to face just about every climatic contingency that Scotland could throw at him!
At the time when both DD1 and DD2 were born, HunterGatherer was working on a stock farm in Fife (or 'The Kingdom of Fife', as it's often called), looking after a herd of pedigree Hereford cattle.
Those were halcyon days, and I remember with pleasure being blasted on the beach at Elie by a blustery November breeze or heading into Anstruther on a balmy summer's evening to treat ourselves to a golden, crispy fish supper from the world-renowned Anstruther Fish Bar. It was thus with slight nostalgia that I headed recently with my long-suffering gym buddy, P., back to the East Neuk of Fife for a morning of coastal walking followed by a well-earned rest (euphemism for lunch!).
We were extremely fortunate with the weather. The rain that had threatened during our hour-long drive East from Kinross to Crail was considerate enough to restrain itself for the duration of our stroll along the glorious coastal path, and the clouds and sunshine took it in turn to prevail, which made for some tempting photo opportunities.
Of course, the main benefit of going for a nice long walk is that one can then 'refuel the tank' without (too much of) a guilty conscience, so on our return to the picturesque fishing village we rapidly repaired to the Crail Harbour Gallery and Tearoom to replenish our energy levels.
Being tough country girls, we elected to sit in the tiny patio behind the Tearoom so we could overlook the sea while discussing life, the universe and which cake to choose for pudding! The only slight risk factor (as the waitress warned us, with a twinkle in her eye) was that the cream on top of their hot chocolate had been known to fly into the face of its consumers under similarly windy conditions. All the more reason to down the delicious chocolatey concoction at speed, we thought!
Our visit to the Gallery Tearoom proved a perfect way to finish our micro-visit to Fife, and we've already resolved to return next year and walk another part of the Fife coastal path. In the meantime, our photos will serve as a welcome reminder of our 2016 visit to the beautiful East Neuk.