Regular visitors a Linda bag You will have noticed a blog tours shortage this year. Life is too complicated to commit to them at this time. However, I could not resist participating in this for the last medium grade book of Barbara Henderson I do not make mountains As I have loved each of his books that I have read and I always want to shout on them from the roofs. My thanks to Barbara for inviting me to participate. He would only have had time to read and review, as well as share a beautiful Barbara guest post.
You will find my other reviews of Barbara’s books, as well as other features here.
Posted by Scottish Mountaineering Press on March 17, 2025 I do not make mountains It is available for purchase in all usual places, as well as directly from the editor here.
I do not make mountains
Adventures are good things for people in books.
But I am not a person in a book. I am Kenzie. I like to read about adventures, not to have them.
An expedition of Hill Walking? With a group of strangers and Sorley Mackay, the most annoying child in the universe?
Bookworm Kenzie cannot believe her bad luck when her teacher announces plans for a three -day expedition at Hill Wallking in the Cairngorms. She is about everything to get out of the trip, but soon the group goes to the hills with the leader of the Bairdy mountain and settled to spend the night.
Bairdy’s stories of ancient magic fill Kenzie’s mind, but in the cold light of the morning, they discover that the mountain leader has disappeared, his store left intact. They are alone.
Take a walk, how Barbara Henderson learned to appreciate the outdoors, despite her best efforts!
An guest publication of Barbara Henderson
Every Sunday afternoon, it was the same shout of inopportune rally: prepare, Barbara. Let’s take a walk.
What my inevitable response was: ‘What? Again? Noooo.
I am a country girl who grew up to the edge of a town, the darkness of the darkness of the endless wooded hills of Germany no more than a stone shot. I spent all day outdoors as I was: play in the garden, explore the forest and burns all over our house, walking towards my cousin’s house, which was even more remote. I wasn’t fair! Why did my evil parents have to impose a walk? The walks made sense, in my humble opinion. You went from A B a a again, without the freedom to play or take adventure deviations along the way. And what were you going to do while you placed one foot in front of the other? Talk? Look around? It was the very idea of purgatory for me, eleven years old!
And yet. My parents pointed out different trees that I learned to identify with their leaves. We saw deer and hares, we collected bird feathers and investigated wild boar tracks in the land of the forest. My parents were also managers for fungi and berries, yawn! This made those walks even longer. Come on, I’ll make myself fall. I want to go home!
House to read my book, most likely. I was a voracious reader as a child, and my idea of adventures was to disappear, quite security and without any physical effort, between the pages of a great story. There! That was better.
I extended to get out of those walks on Sunday afternoon as soon as I was an adequate teenager. However, when I moved to Scotland to study, something very strange happened: I began to lose all the things that had previously bothered me in my education. I started putting the table for the formal afternoons of coffee and cake that had been held. I started listening to classical music and the choir that had drowned with Springsteen at home. And, much against my best judgment, I began to develop an interest in the birds, the gardens and … going out to walk! Who had I become?
In my defense, if there was ever a country made to enter, it was Scotland! It began innocently, with short vagrants in the beautiful city of Edinburgh. In a short time, we were taking the borders, Aberfeldy and Glencoe on weekends. What was happening to me? When my husband’s work took our family to the highlands, I had to admit that it was a lost cause: I had become my parents. Like my mother and my dad before me, I am a mother of three (now adults) young people who protested against the mandatory weekend walks almost as much as he had. But they can also identify most birds and have experienced wading first -hand through Scottish dirt on the road to a fog hill, or being assaulted by a million mosquitoes in a coastal camp. My last story, I do not make mountainsIt is about that experience, being a young person who has no choice but to interact with the outdoor, but that does not resist the appeal of her.
Most people who pass me through the street would not classify me as a typical outdoor guy, and I am not muscular, agile or with the weather. I’m not even hard. But how could I not fall in love with the song of the birds and the breeze, and the wild places at my door?
A typical Sunday afternoon in our house will now be calm. No scream of meeting, without protest. Only the creak of the chairs while we put our walk boots and go for a walk.
It goes without saying.
****
Thank you very much Barbara, and yes, I think we all become our parents in some way, so I’m going to dig up my boots to walk, although unfortunately Fenland Lincolnshire does not offer many mountains …
About Barbara Henderson
Barbara Henderson is the award -winning author of Eleven Books, including the award -winning novels of Young Quills The chess thief and The siege of fallingas well as RivetWinner of the Books for Topics Curriculum Support Prize. Its historical and echo fiction for children is widely studied in schools. Barbara is based in the Scottish highlands, where she still teaches drama, but she loves to travel and spread history in classrooms throughout the country. When he has the opportunity, he likes to leave nearby hills.
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