David Robinson writes an affectionate obituary of the Scottish translator and writer, Jennie Erdal in today’s Scotsman. I never knew this lady, although I read her book, Ghosting, and heard her speak about it. Her talent shone like a beacon and if you haven’t read her depiction of her mum’s corset selling from their house in the 1950s, I recommend you do.
We’ve probably all been aware of the ending of the story for a friend or relative during these strange months. Death in life is inevitable but what makes these deaths slightly weird is the near absence of the normal rites of passage associated.
Likewise the cancelled wedding celebrations and baptisms. While we’ve been aware of deaths, we’ve also been aware of births. The frustration of not being there for the newest arrival is unimaginable. There’s a huge accumulation of communal grief and joy awaiting us.
Quiet day, yesterday but writing friend Ann Burnett set off on a literary blog tour with her romance, Festival Fireworks. You can catch her on some of the wonderful blogs on her list and you can find the list at Rosie Writes here.
I took marmalde pulp out of the freezer yesterday. So that’ll be Tuesday sorted, then…