December 2018 was the first month since January 2017 during which I did not reach the summit of a new Munro, but I can already say with confidence, without checking any statistics, that 2018 was a good year. (more…)
Author: duncanspence
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Cancer was probably the best thing ever to happen to me
After a few days of living in a hospital bed it becomes a bit like a tent.
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A false alarm
Ever since the diagnosis, it has been impossible not to make sense of every twinge, minor pain or anomalous experience as possibly related to the disease. It is a continuous struggle; try as I might, until there is evidence supplied to the contrary, in the worst recesses of my imagination everything is always related to the cancer.
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Letting go
He used to visit when my mother was alive but she shooed him away, not because she did not like cats, but because she was scared she might trip over him. After she died, every time I came to the house he would visit. By the time I moved in, he seemed to have already decided that this was where he wanted to be. I reopened the old cat flap so he could come and go as he pleased. Every time I came home from one of my adventures or from working in the city, he would be close by, waiting for my return with long stories and much purring. (more…)
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The two most boring Munros?
Munros since diagnosis #173 and #174
11:00 – A’ Bhuidheanach Bheag (M240), 3071ft, 936m
13:00 – Carn a Caim (M233), 3087ft, 941m (more…)
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Always living with(out) cancer
According to the eponymous tradition of Scottish philosophy, common sense refers to an ability to perceive the properties or qualities of objects using separate sensory modalities. The classic example used to demonstrate the principle is the fact of the cubeness of a cube being both a visual and a tactile experience – we can both see and feel that it is a cube. The common sense is that which makes it thus possible for vision to confirm touch and vice versa. It is the basis of learning directly to perceive higher orders of abstraction than raw sensory experience, and of using these to navigate about complex environments. (more…)
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Canned hunting
My great grandfather was a notorious hunter of wild birds, with a passion both overwhelming and devious. (more…)
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The shiteness of being Scottish
The name of this blog has been known to upset and offend, particularly those who have never heard of Trainspotting or Irvine Welsh.
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Biting off more than I can chew
Munros since diagnosis #171 and #172
12:30 – Ben Starav (M063), 3537ft, 1078m
14:30 – Beinn nan Aighenan (M196) 3150ft, 960m
