My kitchen
Stepping on a ship setting sail for Scotland
My kettle dreams
Sailing into a port of perils with tea
My Biscuits
Scottish tartan shortbread from Mum
My porcelain cup
Showing me blessings in her love

Poetry | Stories | Photography
My kitchen
Stepping on a ship setting sail for Scotland
My kettle dreams
Sailing into a port of perils with tea
My Biscuits
Scottish tartan shortbread from Mum
My porcelain cup
Showing me blessings in her love

O’er the hills we’ll walk, my love,
O’er the hills we’ll walk.
I’ll take your hand; you’ll crush my hand,
O’er the hills we’ll walk.
The highlands call to us again
the highlands call to us.
we’ll dance about; you’ll get grumpy and shout,
O’er the hills we’ll walk.