That’s the way I Hygge it

LAST summer I discovered Hygge. Late to the party, I know, and shockingly so, I know. But hey ho, here I am at the party, my Hygge membership card in hand. It’s kind of hard to imagine why no one would really want to get aboard the Hygge party bus. It’s all about chill, and… Continue reading That’s the way I Hygge it



Streetlights flicker, the wind whispering in your ear as you walk down the street. Exposed skin prickles at the cold air and you pick up your pace, hands buried deep in pockets. Twilight has already faded into darkness, an inky sky bruising the last streaks of daylight. Cloud wisps crawl by, grey shadows painted on… Continue reading Spooky


The Commute

THE subway thunders underfoot, the vibrations shaking the commuter’s bags. Keys jingle together from within pockets, the sharp noise clashing with the rumbling of a rolling Buckfast bottle along the floor. Occasionally, it crashes into the metal underneath the carriage’s course seats. A sticky mess trails behind the green bottle as the stench of alcohol… Continue reading The Commute


‘I Know’

“I NEVER hated you, you know?” The villain looked up at the rasping words and blinked stunned. After everything they had done. The bombings, the killings, all the blood that stained their hands - and yet. “I-” -“it’s ok. You don’t have to say anything.” A moment passed. Then two. And the silence rang in… Continue reading ‘I Know’


Day Twenty Four (Here We Go Again)

DAY twenty-four calls for some of my old summer reads. I got my teeth stuck into A Golden Age while on holiday a few years ago. It came at the recommendation of my mother (respect to her book suggestions, she's never led me wrong), and I literally could not be pried away from it for… Continue reading Day Twenty Four (Here We Go Again)


Day Twenty Three (It’s Me, I’m a Tree, I’m a Wombat)

THERE’S something about old books. Something in the way it feels to hold them. Wuthering Heights is by no means my favourite classic. To be perfectly frank, I prefer Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights - mostly because I heard once that some people believed she was singing “It’s me, I’m a tree, I’m a wombat” instead… Continue reading Day Twenty Three (It’s Me, I’m a Tree, I’m a Wombat)


Day Twenty Two (A Thousand Words)

ON sticky, grey hot days like today in Glasgow I kinda wish I was elsewhere. I spent a lot of my summer last year travelling, from Croatia to Paris to Estepona, and it really took me back to loving photography. I’m better with words than photos that’s for sure, but they do say a picture… Continue reading Day Twenty Two (A Thousand Words)


Day Twenty-One (Meet my friends Ben and Jerry)

I’M having a Bridget Jones day where nothing seems to really be working on my favour. Tripping over my own two feet, failing driving tests, losing my head in a spin - a night like this calls for my oldest and dearest friends. Mr Ben and Mr Jerry. And while I may be no Bridget… Continue reading Day Twenty-One (Meet my friends Ben and Jerry)


Day Twenty (poetry is plenty)

IT’S funny the things you miss when you spend time apart from someone. Laughing, crying, laughing and crying - it can be difficult to find time to spend with the ones you love. This summer has been full of gaps for me, not just friends and family travelling, but also because of work and distance.… Continue reading Day Twenty (poetry is plenty)


Day Eighteen (I’m a material girl)

IT was around my third outfit change on Day Eighteen that I started to realise that maybe I own too many clothes. No really, I think it’s maybe starting to become an issue. I spend far too much money on online shopping, to the point where my partner just kinda looks at me exasperatedly and… Continue reading Day Eighteen (I’m a material girl)