Call me old fashioned

I am not sure if it's a characteristic of my generation - a baby boomer - but I do appreciate and enjoy tradition, and I am very attached to following the seasons, embracing those things which can only happen at certain times of the year. Hence my habit to make marmalade in January, when the Seville oranges appear in the shops. It's a time consuming task, but women have been boiling and shredding up bitter oranges, and cooking them with ridiculous amounts of sugar, since the mid 1600s, so why stop now!

And here's another thing I love about this time of year, and reminds me of the nature table at school when I was about six - catkins! I know the Junior Oxford English Dictionary has done its best to banish them from the English language, but the lamb's tails will still be hanging from the hazel trees long after play stations and smart phones are old technology.

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In a vase on Monday - colour

The intense colours in my vase this week come from nasturtiums, sweetpeas and a single glorious zinnia! Their beauty and love of life speak for themselves and need no further words from me! Enjoy!

Early morning light

There have been some cracking early morning skies this week. The sunrise has generated a strong rose gold light which has been picked up not only in the clouds but also through the silver-white grasses around the edge of the golf course. I always marvel at the clouds. Constantly changing, formations that have never been seen before, never to be seen again.

Coastal walk from Gullane to North Berwick

By the time I have walked about four miles, my toes are screaming at me - it's the arthritis, you see. One of the joys of being that little bit older than I was. However, for a long time, I have been keen to walk along the beaches, and follow the coastal path, between Gullane and North Berwick. So, having worked out the tide times, I decided today was the day, and off we went. Below is our starting point, the bay at Gullane. It's a lovely beach, very popular with dog walkers. This is looking east, the direction Tilly and I were going to take. Looking back, up the Forth, the unmistakable bulk of Arthur's Seat, and Edinburgh's skyline, just clear enough to see. For most of the walk, there is the choice between wandering along a series of beaches, or following a path along the top of each. There's no denying it, at heart I am a shell-seeker. I have loads of shells at home. We lived on one of the out islands in the Bahamas for a just over a year, ...

the running wave

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