Category Archives: writing

Two Lovely Things

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This fine Saturday morning I am sitting in my friend’s house in Glen Ariff, N Ireland, drinking tea and valuing books. Liz runs a camping and ceilidh barn, but is rarely here because she’s trotting the world as a storyteller. I think she’s in England today.

The view from my bedroom window this morning

Sitting in Liz’s space surrounded by bookshelves, I’m going through her rather extensive collection. As a former librarian, Liz received a lot of books as presents over the years from places where she’s told stories.Some of them are worth quite a bit, and I am having fun plying my old trade as a bookslinger.

Liz is eyeing a bit of downsizing for her caretakers’ flat at the barn. The barn is divided into three bits: Liz’s private space, the dorm and services for the guests, and a studio for ceilidhs and workshops, sessions, etc. You have to go outside to get between the three.

Of course it’s drizzling today, so I made myself a cuppa tea from the ceilidh barn stash, carried it over to the flat, and changed into my comfy slipper socks. It took this PhD with two master’s degrees about an hour to realize that, instead of changing to shoes and dashing through the rain to make another cuppa each time, I could bring the milk and sugar to Liz’s place and use her kettle. Not much gets by me. I think I’m on my ninth cup of tea, so perhaps my brain is sloshing.

One shelf done, 27 to go….
When I lived in Scotland I wrote a column for a US paper about life overseas and they were collected into this sweet little book, my first. I’ve written nine since then with some major publishers even, but the first is always special!

Some amazing titles live on these crowded bookshelves. And of course there’s the lovely moment when I found one of the books I’d written. Pride filled my heart – until I valued it online. We won’t talk about that.

If you want to be in on the book sale once it starts, leave a comment on this blog post and we will contact you when the time comes. Some books will be listed on eBay, plus there will be a barn sale and possibly an online FB Marketplace sale as well. We will let you know.

The lucky tomes that may get to travel the world via eBay, based on their desirability and value

Now, a quick dash to the toilet and back to the bookshelves with cup number ten.

Destined for FB Marketplace, or perhaps a nice ‘buns and books’ barn sale?

HELLO AGAIN!

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All right, it was a wee break but I’m back now. Hello, how have you been?

So here is what happened, in a nutshell. Jack got sick end of May. It was touch and go for a day or so, and then three stable days before they let him come home. Short version of what caused it: smoking.

So Jack has not had a cigarette since, and I’ll tell you a funny story about that in a minute.

Right now, I’m sitting in Glenariff, at my friend Liz Weir’s camping barn, enjoying a cuppa tea and some lovely Irish breakfast bread with Damson jelly. Jack has been ensconced at his sister’s house in Stonehaven (very near Aberdeen) and will be staying the winter. I’ll be going back and forth while attending to some contractual obligations here: to whit, writing a book about Hurricane Helene with co-author Roxy Toddy, and running a few conferences.

Glen Ariff from Liz’s camping barn kitchen

People naturally have a lot of questions: how soon will you move to Scotland, is Jack coming back, will you sell your house? To all we give the same answer: we don’t know; ask us again in the Spring. Right now, we are glad Jack is alive, grateful for the National Health Service in Scotland offering free and quality care, and taking things as they come.

I am setting up my “retirement” jobs of editing, copy writing, indexing, and the rest. Probably get that onto this blog’s host site over the winter. Running around with Liz telling stories has reminded me how much fun it is, and how demanding physically. Sitting at Liz’s giant table enjoying my third cuppa tea, I’m reminded how many demands there are on my time in the US that keep me from writing, and how easy it would be to slip back into that on my return stateside. The Helene book is contracted, and is a project of the heart. What comes after, more bits and bibs or a return to the world of words, spoken and written?

We shall see. Meanwhile, I promised you a funny story about Jack’s hospital release:

Anthony was the respiratory therapist assigned to turn the assortment of machines, tubes and wires Jack was sent home with into something we knew how to use. He went through everything twice, patiently, until I felt I had it. Life was going to be different: no candles, no open flames, no cooking for Jack until he got the hang of trailing wires and all that.

Anthony turned to where Jack lay in the hospital bed. Fixing Jack with his steely blue eyes, Anthony said, “People set themselves on fire, lighting up while on oxygen. We had one yesterday we couldn’t save. Woman crisped herself.”

Jack nodded, looking something between calm and exasperated. Near death experiences have a way of taking the drama out of drama.

From behind Anthony, I piped up. “If Jack ever smokes again, I’ll set him on fire myself.”

Anthony choked back a laugh, then reached for a form. “Right, this is the release. We’ve covered everything, except–” he glanced over his shoulder at me, then back at Jack. “Well, the last question before we can release you.” He looked at me again, then spoke to Jack. “Do you feel safe in your own home?”

Jack signed. We went home. He hasn’t smoked since, and the equipment went back to its makers about a month before we left for the UK. We will keep you posted on journeys from here, both physical and emotional.

Oh, and if you smoke, quit now.

Here’s a link to Liz’s ceilidh barn: https://www.ballyeamonbarn.com/