Blackhouse God's House

Born in a blackhouse, with three indulgent cows at one end, sleeping quarters at the other and the requisite peat fire in the middle, my father, a precociously observant child, grew up amid the blissful sounds of skylarks and the stark reality of religious discrimination, in the form of shunning as well as outright hostility. Among his kaleidoscope of scenes: the cries of lambs being separated forever from their mothers; the husband and wife arguing over how to properly set up the peat in front