Rusticated Column

Rusticated… (IV)

February 6, 2019
by Brian Morton

If I’d thought quicker, I would have started humming Bolero. We don’t often see snow out here, with the influence of sea on three sides, but when it does come it falls with a curious intensity that borders on malice, the way a lapsing alcoholic might fall on a bottle of malt. There is always a...

Rusticated… (III)

December 6, 2018
by Brian Morton

  We hardly know each other, but if you’ve even briefly eavesdropped one of these ramblings you’ll know that I suffer from a condition called RSH, or rurally specific humiliation. In essence, this distressing ailment causes the sufferer to do improbable things in the open, on the basis that,...

Rusticated… (II)

November 2, 2018
by Brian Morton

  A teaching colleague asks what I’ve been up to during the mid-semester break, and looks perplexed and mildly offended by my answer, which throws me in turn. To cover any awkwardness, however unintended, I go on to explain that, while alder isn’t high on anyone’s list of great firewoods...

Rusticated…

October 5, 2018
by Brian Morton

We might as well be wearing togas, and the long bar of the Dalbuie might as well be the Forum. Ernie and I pace solemnly, speaking Latin. We’re not discussing the relationship between esse and existere, nor (switching ancient tongues) the fine line between homoiousian and homoousian. The question...