I. In Edinburgh the bagpipes are for tourists. I’m sorry but it’s true. I don’t mean to be a snob. But in Stirling they’re more genuine. They roll over the floodplains and you never see who’s playing them. You can… Continue Reading
“I shouldn’t be here,” Siobhan said, biting her lip. She looked toward the frosted window of the snug — the closet-like room in which her Da and Frank’s father were haggling away over The Bindings, settling her future forever. “The… Continue Reading
It is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Would you like to know how I came by it? It’s a strange tale. I was down at the Causeway on the North Antrim coast. Did you know that it’s a steep walk… Continue Reading