New Blog Post: August 2026
Not long back from a glorious week in the Highlands. A multi-generational family celebration, making memories and spending some quality time. Which all got me to thinking about the joy of truly, properly being able to switch off. It’s a part of the world where things are slightly less seamless. There’s not a lot of time to spend on devices or the like because, frankly, outside is an actual postcard. Even when it’s sheeting it down with rain (which, on this trip, was actually (and amazingly) only on one occasion).
The cars had been packed to the gills with ‘stuff to do’. Because no one ever wants to feel like they don’t have enough stuff to do…that’s the worst, isn’t it? And presumably why we are so incapable of spending very much time without device or remote in hand (I can’t go for a walk without a podcast in my ears these days). In reality, though, the great outdoors is the true playground. So much to see and do, despite the fact that it is all so similar. We saw and did lots. And it was glorious.
The one thing we could do with losing is, perhaps, the lack of spontaneity that comes with our more connected world. Gone are the days of guidebooks, or even blogs! In their place are 5 to 20 second videos of “must see” places or things to do. The reality one is met with is often hoards of people all trying to see or do the same thing. And that is, of course, a bit tedious. There were many times on this trip when I wanted to yell: “get out of my Highlands” – this undoubtedly came from some distant nostalgia of trips gone by when things were just that little bit quieter and getting haplessly lost was part of the fun. Particularly when it meant discovering something relatively unknown. Had this same feeling on a trip to Cumbria recently. The final destination of a walk was some waterfalls. They were fine. But they were also very busy, as signposted by the extremely busy National Trust car park close by. The true gem of the outing was the off-beat walk, with friends, through the countryside to the falls. We didn’t pass anyone else along the way and the children in our group were at their feral best – climbing trees, dipping in streams and just generally running amok. Bliss. And never easy to do when you’re dodging hundreds of other people.
The Highlands remains extremely special but amidst all of that is a reminder to follow the path less travelled.
Reading
Howl’s Moving Castle by Dianna Wynne Jones. Stick with me! DWJ novels have cult status and I missed out on them as a youngster (despite the fact that I am the same age as this particular title!). A more recent revelation, though, as my children have grown, is that there is a particular win in reading fiction meant for young people. I’ve been reading out loud to them now for years and we’ve evolved through picture books to novels and have personally become so engrossed in the novels we are reading together. It’s a joyful way to spend time together. However, the desire to expand beyond just that reading time comes from a recognition that a lot of adult fiction can, fundamentally, be a bit miserable (because, apparently, that’s a good deal of adulting to boot) and, beyond that, there’s a feeling of not wanting to be left behind in terms of what my children are reading. It’s a connection thing. So, more fiction for young people it is (and a collective journal to match, I think).
Watching
Rivals has caught up with our household. Sigh. It’s fairly obvious, of course, and nothing more than fodder from our perspective. Joyfully, though, our children are getting into ‘The Great British Sewing Bee’ and I’m here for it. Anything that reminds them that crafting and making well into adulthood, irrespective of one’s profile, is a) normal; and b) to be supported, is a total win.
Sunday saves
For our next foray to the Highlands, we’ll be staying in this sublime location. Although I hesitate to share this publicly, obviously (cf opening paragraphs).
We are trying to come round to the notion ‘analogue first’ where possible, but loving these gadgets for the small people in our lives. A bit of a nod to having a phone and the ability to keep tabs on them a bit, but no need to go full-scale. Which we love.
Trying to bolster our art collection and loving Tenjiwe's work. The saturation of colour and the portrayal of the subject matter have all our votes.