Today's blog is a bit of a challenge... Next week, there is an exhibition in Thurso Art Gallery (it's the back room of the library, for any people in the area who are are interested in going along!) entitled Caithness Connections . I've had a little sneak peek on social media and been amazed by the variety of ideas the artists have used to consider the theme. It set me thinking about how differently people see their home, and how greatly it differs to how other people see it. Caithness is not a well-explored area, either in tourism (although this has improved since the NC500 route became popular) or in the arts, as its near neighbour Orkney. This is not always a bad thing - the Orkney which exists now is a far cry from the one I knew as home in my childhood thanks to the insane amount of cruise ship traffic, but when you say Caithness to most people from outwith Northern Scotland, most of them have no idea where it is if they've even heard of it. A few years ago, I wro...
I've been talking a lot about my family saga this month, so here's a little excerpt from Beneath Black Clouds and White . Although I published this second, it comes first chronologically. I hope you enjoy it! Chapter Nine Persephone and Rosanna Fotherby wasted little time as Peters left him, but began walking in the direction of Mayfair. After arriving at the house of Sir Manfred Chester so late on the last two occasions he had been a house guest, he was determined to arrive at a civilised time. He reached the white fronted house in the late afternoon and paused at the steps, uncertain that he should presume to simply arrive there. He walked across the road, rebuking himself for his lack of etiquette. He still carried the card that Peters had given him and he wondered at what the address was. It was somewhere in Westminster, and he was on the point of returning into the city when he turned at the sound of his name. “Henry! You have come back to us. You must come in at once.” “...