Where is Mac?

Where is Mac?

Where is Mac?

We’re right in the middle of moving house and doing busy-stuff.

Finding time to post has been hard. I decided to make some today. Goodness me, I feel a poem coming on.

(*Scots some times call a house a ‘hoose’):

Hoose to Hoose*

Amidst the boxes here I sit

And contemplate our complex flit

Of things to do and weights to lift

And photos needing of a sift

And rules and deeds and papers lawful

And complications … bloody awful

And removal contracts changing dates

And boxes stuffed with heavy weights

Of books and contents most confusing

Of stress and tempers close to losing

And so I pause and breathe a sigh

Call the new place to mind’s eye

And leaning back think of the view

The peace, the quiet … there’s the clue

Kids and grandkids close at hand

And close by hill and sea and sand

An open fire in wintry cold

To warm my bones … if truth be told

The pain of waiting eases swift

As future thoughts my spirits lift

Mac Logan

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