Open Writing

Introductions. I’m a writer and a wife. Both require attention to detail, the ability to transport oneself into an alternative reality, but no matter how dreamy you get you’re still faced with cleaning the toilet the next day!

Firstly I’m a Mother. My eldest, seven, is the thinker. Idealistic in his world of drawing, writing, wildlife and reading. His imagination is his greatest gift and I reinforce this at every opportunity. He amazes me with his ’anything can be anything’ attitude.

On the flip side, my youngest boy of three is the total embodiment of energy in motion. Never still from dawn till dusk. His enthusiasm for all things with six to eight legs and the potential to put you in a coma with a single bite, reminds me to keep my own amazement in life fresh - and the emergency department on speed dial!

I on the other hand am not so endeared to the little critters and would almost blackout each and every time they enter my kitchen, held aloft for all to see. The Crocodile Hunter had a lot to answer for in my house! Their fascination with wildlife and deadly insects was a daily part of our lives during the last seven years when we were living in Australia and New Zealand. What an experience!

We lived in Tasmania where the climate is extreme, very hot in Summer and very cold in Winter. But hey, at least you get a summer I hear you cry. In both Australia and New Zealand it was engaging to witness seasons again. Seasons like I remember as a young girl.

And where are we now? Scotland. I know, I know. The number of people who have said exactly what you’re thinking have done little to hide the message that they think we’re nuts!

We must be to have undertaken a 30 hour journey across the world in the confines of an airplane, with two imaginatively energetic children.

My first memory of this journey is so horribly vivid that it makes me question my sanity . I shook, went pale, felt sick. I had to put my head between my legs.

My practical husband brought me a glass of iced water, a facecloth and my ‘Rescue Remedy’ - an oil made from seven different flower extracts which you rub into your skin. You apply four drops to specific points on the body to calm yourself down in times of anxiety and stress. I however tipped half the bottle into the palms of my hands, rubbed them together and smothered my forehead, behind my ears, wrists, legs and even my feet!

I then waited for the effect to take over. And waited…and waited... Nothing happened. No karmic state was achieved, which piled a generous dollop of “OH MY GOD” atop my delicate state.

Mr Practicality informed me that he and the children would be fine... stop stressing... and did I know where the screwdriver was?

I didn’t, but I knew where it should be!

So we’re here in sunny Mull - and no, I’m not being ironic, it is actually sunny, so don’t all rush up here at once!

I have a comfortably weird feeling coming back after such a long time. Nothing has changed, although there are a lot more houses about since my last count.

People are older and their faces tell me a lot has happened in the interim. Some faces I’ve known most my life have remained the same. Which makes me a tad suspicious about the amount of face cream I saw last week being smuggled into the Chemists!

Seven years seems to have condensed itself, conjouring up the feeling in Mr Practicality and myself that we’ve been away for no more than a long weekend.

We now have family on our doorstep, and to be honest I’m so not sure I still know how that works. I have to learn how to take a step back from my children, letting all concerned learn about each other all over again.

Sorry, I felt another blackout surge. There’s something crawling across my toes underneath my desk.

It’s time for the family to learn about my children!