I've often thought it unfair that, in the middle of the month of Festivity, those children (and teachers) who mostly go to what we might call 'normal' schools (a term I will explain in time) return to the classroom mid-august while the rest of Edinburgh continues to party. At least most of these kids have Friday afternoons free to wander up to the Royal Mile, dodging the leafleters, to watch the street entertainers.
One year, I recall, a child got pulled out of the crowd to assist in some kind of fire-juggling or magic trick show, and was asked the usual questions: "What's your name?", and "Where have you come from?" Instead of answering, Camberley, Cumbernauld or Canada, the wean - let's call him Robbie - said, 'School.' Quick as a firework the Entertainer said, "Let's have a big cheer from Robbie who's with us today, all the way from... School!"
Here, then is the next School-days photo, for all those poor people (especially the teachers) who are back at school, unlike those in the posh schools whose cloakrooms will remain empty for a wee while yet.
Skewing the anonymity with which this blog began (see December 2009), my twitter-biog says “Writer, photographer, poet, composer, phone-box fanatic and film-buff - all to varying degrees of accomplishment.” Here, then, is the evidence: weigh it up.
This is my third blog (the first two, part of my old life, are no longer extant) and was started as a way of lifting the lid on my turreted loneliness and saying, I’m still here, still writing, still alive – and thriving. The window is open: come in and have a look around. And follow me on
NB: All poetry and prose on this blog is entirely fictional; comment and opinion is my own.