Oh my goodness!  Where does time go… ?
All I seem to write in here are ‘updates’ because I haven’t written anything else recently, this is a sadly neglected blog!
Here we are in April 2019 and the last time I officially showed up in here was September 2018.  SO much has happened since then that I’m not going to try and write an update and  instead of feeling guilty and harassed and giving myself a hard time about what I haven’t written I’m just going to draw a line under it and start again.
I’ve back dated a couple of posts, and added some poems, I’m not going to promise to show up in here every week although I will promise that it is my intention to make it here at least once a month….. however, you can find me a little more regularly on Instagram and Facebook.  And I am writing the second edition of The Needlesmith so there will be more in there.  (It's now on Issu and will open as a magazine if you click the link)

I am ab-so-loot-lee certain, that there are no longer seven days in a week.  I keep reading articles, blogs, listening to podcasts about a simple life, slow living, slow travel.  Maddy from aslowadventure.com, Kayte at www.simpleandSeason.co.uk  endorses simple business plans,  Jane www.Snapdragonlife.com  is going to be having a quiet month experiment, Becky Cole www.beckyocole.com focuses on slow natural living...
... sometimes I think they must all have extra days in their weeks to be able to live slowly.  As I feel that I am at least three days short in a week and often 4, it can be a bit frustrating!
However, I do prefer to be busy, and at the end of a difficult week, a cup of tea with a dear friend this afternoon, an hour and a half of talking about anything and everything, writing, and things we’ve read and listened to, seems to have gently cleared the blockage and my fingers are itching to write & type and paint & sew again.  To Get ON!  So I’ve made a start this evening with this piece, and some plans and a couple of outlines of articles for the journal.  I’ve ordered some fabric tonight , oh and some handmade in Wales soap-on-a-rope from Firain www.firain.com as recommended by Jessica Rose Williams www.jessicarosewilliams.com in her newsletter this week, so I'll be sitting on the doorstep waiting for our grumpy postman soon!
 
Well, until next time I pop in, may your needles stay sharp and your thread not snap.
With love
Kx

PS. Talking of sharp things.... my brother has been over from Glasgow this week with his 6 month old ferret called Dora such a pretty wee thing but boy are her teeths sharp!  Further sharpened on my index finger and dad's thumb!

She also climbs....... fast!

Love is …
By Kate MacDonald
 
My love is
On a washing line
Fluttering in the breeze
 
Your love is
Dried on a radiator
Hot, rumpled and untidy
 
Their love is
From the tumble drier
Easy care and crease free
 
Her love is
On a whirly gig
Spinning round dizzily
 
His love is
Like a clothes horse
Folded away stiffly
 
Our love
Needs no washing
Fresh as a daisy daily
 

Confession
By Kate MacDonald
 
A fear of failing,
Holds me
Back from the doing,
The starting,
Beginning.
 
A fear of failing,
Holds me
Back from creating.
Inhibits,
Constraining.
 
A fear of failing,
Holds me
Back from the chance
Of growing,
Succeeding.
 
This fear of failing
Closes my mind,
Roars through my head,
Fills up my chest,
Arresting my breath.
 
I know I should start.
Pick up the pen,
Just make a mark.
Wield a paint brush or
Ply a needle with thread.
 
This fear of failing
Prevents me from falling,
But it stops me from flying.
 
In my fear to start,
I wallow.
If I haven’t begun
I cannot then fail 

Have just entered a couple of short pieces to the Tarbert Book Festival ... eek!  It's the first time I've entered a competition & I won't hear for a while so I'm not going to hold my breath! 

There's a track near us that runs along the side of Loch Sween called 'Glean a Gealbhan' pronounced 'Gleneealavan'.  It's easy walking, ducking under branches, and there's not often anyone else there so the dogs can roam free.  Over the years I have walked along here dozens and dozens of times with different dogs.  It's a great spot for gathering rowan berries.  It's also, for some reason, where I write storis in my head!  The plot for 'my novel' and it's follow up came to me when I was walking along here. 

With the loch to one side of the path on the other is  steeply sloping hillside, the trees grow tall and straight, towering over the path, bracket fungus and Old Mans Beard lichen adorn trunks and branches. 

​Waterfall of rocks, moss covered and topped with rushes and bilberry bushes.  The path is edged with the swirl and curl of ferns, alongside Argyll’s yellow flags, wild iris, sharp yellow amongst the emerald greens.

​Grasses have put on their firework display of seed heads, knee high & starred by umbellifer.

At the far end the path opens to a small clearing with access to the shore - for dogs anyway - although the way back up was a bit steeper than someone thought!