A Writerly Round-Up: Blowing My Own Trumpet and Planning the Future

It's been a busy few months. I spent much of May and June working on the publicity and logistics for our town's annual summer festival, which took place earlier this month.

Elizabeth Chats With...Bodicia

[A while back, I wrote a guest post about my ideal writing day and how it differs from reality. Today, I've invited the host of that blog to come and chat with me. So a big Elizabeth's Page welcome to Bodicia from A Woman's Wisdom]

Day 8: The End of the Road

Our plan to spend our final morning on another (more accessible) beach is scuppered by the heavy sea mist that rolls in overnight. So we spend the time chilling out (a necessary part of a holiday that is often missed in the rush to fit as much sight-seeing as possible into the available time).

Day 7: Now We Are Six!

Today we see a new side of Geoffrey. To the clergyman and the steam buff, we must now add mountain goat. As Margaret is again working, we decide to take a 'gentle stroll' on the hill behind the house. We listen to advice, don sensible shoes and head upwards, taking increasingly frequent stops 'to admire the view' as the slope steepens. But it is worth it for the vista from the top - the nearby Loch in one direction and the sea and Inner Hebrides in the other are jewel-like in the sunshine.

Day 6: Of Monuments and Steam

We start the day at Morar Station awaiting the Jacobite steam train on its journey from Fort William to Mallaig. David Bailey Pearson (DBP) positions herself atop a five-bar gate overlooking the line. I choose a much less adventurous position on the platform.

Day 5: Father's Day

It is as though the mist has never existed! We finally believe we are surrounded by mountains, both on the mainland and on the islands and after church we lounge on the balcony, where the sounds of the sheep are drowned out by the birds and the only decision we have to take is whether to face the sea or the mountains.

Day 4: Blue Skye and Mountains

The mountains are still hidden and the islands are mostly being bashful, but Skye is visible as we jump in the car and head for the ferry. Sheila and I find the short journey across the Sound invigorating, bracing even (although Margaret tells us it's just a gentle breeze). When we retire from our prime viewing point in the bow to a more sheltered position, we are swiftly replaced by a family of four - who stick it out for just a few minutes before disappearing inside - such lightweights!

Day 3: They're Out There Somewhere!

Margaret and Geoffrey assure us the view from their lounge window includes Skye Eigg and Rum. We believe them because our sister, like us, has been brought up to be truthful - and our brother-in-law is a clergyman - but it's hard to credit when all that can be seen is mist rolling in.

Travels With My Niece's Aunt

Recently, my sister Margaret moved to Mallaig, on the north-west coast of Scotland. Earlier this month my other sister, Sheila, and I drove up to visit her. This would be the longest period the three of us had spent all together since we were children.

Being without a laptop and an internet connection is an unusual experience for me these days. I surprised myself by reverting to a notebook and pen, finding words flowing much more easily without the option of continual editing and retyping. Over the next week, I'll publish the results (after just a little bit of editing).

Day 1