38 years ago today, we (my husband and I, and the cat) moved from North Shields on Tyneside, to Springburn in Glasgow. I swear the vet hadn’t given Fergie a strong enough sedative for his journey, because he yowled every time we slowed down. Nonetheless, he staggered drunkenly from his travelling crate when we reached our new home.
I had a couple of music degrees, a librarianship qualification, and was a chartered librarian. I’d abandoned a PhD (on mediaeval English cantus firmus treatment in the Eton Choirbook, don’t you know?) a couple of years earlier – and I knew NOTHING about Scottish music. Research fellowships weren’t even on my horizon. I had only ever published small things in my capacity as a music librarian.
Where did the time go?!
We now have three adult sons and no cat. I completed another PhD and a teaching certificate, and gained Fellowship of CILIP. (I relinquished membership when I left the library.) I know ‘a bit’ about Scottish music, have published quite a lot, and added other fellowships to my CV.
No-one ever said, ‘You’ll live to regret abandoning doctoral studies …’
If you’d told the 1988 version of myself what I’d achieve in all those librarianly years, I doubt she’d have believed you. I really just wanted to make it up to myself for not completing the first doctorate.
It all started when we set off from North Shields, behind the removal van.
