Hello, Chris thanks for inviting me to talk about myself on your blog.
I came to write this piece and froze. Thoughts of “my mind has gone on holiday” and I’ve forgotten how to string a sentence together”, invade my mind. However, as with every story there is a beginning, middle an end.
I was brought up on an island called Rousay. It forms part of the chain of islands called the Orkneys
My uncle owned a farm and my aunt was the district nurse, but that simple sentence is bare. It doesn’t tell you about them or just what they did for me.
My uncle Tommy was, in my eyes, a magician. He taught me how to bond with animals, how to drive the tractor, the land rover which left us with some hysterical memories. He taught me how to shoot at cans with my Diana air rifle and…
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