Drip, drip
Drop, drop
Five, ten, twenty, more
Plip, plip
Plop, plop
Trees whisper, encore.
Birds sing their lilting chorus
As flowers sway
To rain’s symphony.
©️ Liz Mackenzie
On the eighth of the eighth, 1988, I ordered a kettle. Over the phone; in those days there was no internet superspeed shopping. I was exuberant as I hadn’t had a new kettle since 1960 and the naughty wee thing had finally conked. I suppose it had lasted well. It was my first electric kettle and I was so proud of it; I used to smile at myself in its shiny copper coating. My 80s one was to be a tall, slim model; a Morphy Richards.
Having ordered it, I somewhat forgot; life events took a rather odd turn and I continued to use the old hob kettle I’d inherited from Gran. On the eighth of the eighth 2008, exactly 20 years since my order, the kettle arrived. It actually had a hand-written apology note for the delay. I guess that’s why they call it ‘snail mail’ these days?
©️ Liz Mackenzie

Here’s five facts about Footdee:
So armed with these facts, why visit this tiny place? It has the Silver Darling restaurant, a nod to the old Scottish name for herring. There’s an obelisk, Scarty’s Monument; you could be forgiven for thinking it’s a memorial but it’s really the ventilation shaft of a disused sewage point. The war memorial commemorates Footdee folk who died in first and second world wars. The roundhouse was the former harbour master’s station and the marine operations building is shapely in gleaming glass.
All these pale to nothing when you meet the enchanting network of cobbled walkways hosting quaint cottages and quirky sheds. It’s said upcycling gave birth here long before television shows claimed its popularity. Rusting mangles and fishermen’s boots host flowers and trailing plants; lifebelts become the means to name a shed. It’s a time stands still, steeped in history (almost) hidden gem.
How had I missed it in the 60 years I’d been visiting Aberdeen? I spoke to my aunt, the Aberdeen oracle who’s lived in the city since she was five. Her face lit up. “Fittie? I love it. We used to go there often, walking round each path admiring the little cottages all dressed up.” If you’ve been, you’ll know what she means. If you haven’t, don’t overlook this fascinating, model village style piece of social history. Can you resist?
©️ Liz Mackenzie
Ghostly they dance the night sky
screech their moonlit song
scour a city for overfed waste as
tides turn for another million years
©️ Liz Mackenzie

Today, at my creative writing group, we did a short writing exercise whereby the person next to you gave you a word (any word) and you had to write no more than 50 words, starting with “I love you” and incorporating the given word. All a bit valentine’s day, thought I; I don’t ‘do’ valentines day but, ever game for a writing challenge, here is my offering with thanks to Elizabeth for a lovely word.
Front Runner
I love you snowdrop, you peek out when
all is grey and Christmas is over.
You’re a front runner
the prelude to Spring
You don’t announce your arrival with
a fanfare, just shyly say, “hi”.
You are my hope
my dare to dream defender
I love you snowdrop
© Liz Mackenzie

Photograph taken at Hodsock Priory Snowdrop Walk on 17 February 2019

I have left behind the
spring in my step
clambering over rocks
the triumph of hilltops
I have left behind questions
not worth an answer
niggles and annoyances
and petty people
I have left behind memories
that don’t belong in today
and clutter my brain
like too many papers
I have left behind vanity
that made me mind
what people thought
become more me
© Liz Mackenzie
A tongue in cheek poem for Boxing Day.
Bubble squeaking with pigs in blankets
Over- indulgence leaving some
Xanthic (or yellowish if you will)
Invite friends for silly games
Nod off during yet more Christmas films
Go for a walk, brisk and bright
Doze again to TV repeats
And smile at yesterday’s snapshots
Yule, Christmas, Noel and New Year beckons…
©️ Liz Mackenzie
The good thing about being part of a creative writing group is the challenge to write ‘on the spot’. For me, this gives the chance to go with whatever first comes to mind within a specific theme. Today’s challenge was to write something starting with, “All I want for Christmas …”. I did go with my first thought but couldn’t read it out; too raw. I can, however, post it here.
All I want for Christmas is to see mum once more, and for last Christmas not to have been … the last. Would she speak with dementia wit after Christmas lunch with her party hat on and her plate empty? “What are you doing for Christmas, dear?”

Cheers, mum x
©️ Liz Mackenzie