The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, National Theatre of Scotland, touring until 7 November 2026 Wonderful and devastating, this adaptation of Muriel Spark’s novel set in 1930s Edinburgh from the talented folk at National Theatre of Scotland makes for compelling theatre, directed here by Vicky Featherstone. Charisma hiding evil The cast, led by Gayle Rankin, … More Brodie’s prime puts us all on our guard
The trouble started with a visit to the facilities, as Paddington would have called them. I was in hospital having kidney scans when I began to need the loo. Sat on the toilet, my business done, I found I couldn’t get up. I was going to be there, as Captain Oates put it, ‘some time.’ … More Friday didn’t go well . . .
How I found out about having neurological illness. … More Facing our fears
When my younger daughter was three months old, I woke up one morning to notice my sight in my right eye had become blurry. If I shut my left eye and relied on the right one, I couldn’t see where the curtains began or ended, couldn’t tell what that fuzzy white thing on the mantelpiece … More The body doesn’t lie
Summer 2015, Western General Hospital, Edinburgh “No, it’s not cancer.” My body begins to relax at the young and energetic doctor’s words. Not cancer. The sight loss, paralysis, memory gaps . . . It’s not what I most feared. My husband is sitting next to me in another grotty plastic visitors’ chair. He shoots me … More Learning I’ve got MS
I have not received payment of any kind for this review. It’s hard not to get all metaphorical about vibroplates, the exercise equipment that help people like us recover or at least improve our balance. The one I’ve invested in after my last MS attack looks a bit intergalactic. Like something Buzz Rogers might use. But … More Getting our balance?
Victim of lock-down hair? My tree identification course is finally bearing fruit. The beginnings weren’t that promising, scrutinising lots of twigs at weekly evening classes one winter, more than ten years ago now, at the local Botanical Gardens. But gazing at the sticks eventually taught me to tell the differences between aspen, wych elm, hazel, … More Finding pleasure in the detail
Is it just me, or is birdsong more jubilant post lockdown?Maybe it’s because I haven’t been outdoors much, any birdsong at all feels jubilant, almost triumphant, after surviving the winter. … More About the great railings cull…
