A letter from March 22nd, 2023

Dear FutureMe, I'm currently sat in the Corner House at Glen Dye. It's achingly ******* beautiful. I'm on a blue velvet sofa, surrounded by rustic tables, shabby cabinets and cook books. The walls are covered in murals and a ridiculous mix of artwork that just works. The fire is crackling, Sigur Ròs is on the record player. Kirsty is on the other sofa in a rainbow cardigan, cuddled up with Millie and Kimber who love it here. We're all snoozy and smell of charcoal from the Green Egg barbeque. I'm drinking gin and port, Kirsty's having a herbal tea and currently falling in love with a writing desk. This place feels important. Significant. Good. It, weirdly, feels like home. We stayed here as part of Scotland's Greatest Escape and find ourselves back here on the night the programme airs. I wonder what will come of that. Anything? We also find ourselves here on a day where someone in ******, yet again, made a comment about incomers to Kirsty while she was at work. "No offence," she said. Offence taken. So it's nice to be away. This place nourishes my soul with colour and texture and fire and stillness and smoky skies and Sigur Ròs. I need more of this in life to make me happy. I need more time spent bundled up outside on chilly evenings, sat by something burning and gazing at the sky. I feel so trapped at 'home' at the moment. What can I do to get beyond that? The idea of moving seems barely tangible. We keep arriving at dead ends, looking around for hope only to find another dead end. Where's the reset button? How do we get out of this glitch? I hope you have the answers. I hope it didn't take you too long to find them. Whatever you're doing, get in touch with Charlie. Try find your way back to Glen Dye, somehow 💙 Love you, I think you need it. H x