My people

Just been to view a house in Glasgow, and very nice it was too. Suddenly, moving seems like it could actually happen.

On the suburban train both going and coming back I encounter chatty Glaswegians. Going out is a cheery drunk with a dog who happily broadcasts his life to the carriage. Coming back, an arty lady talks at length on her mobile about her recently collapsed relationship, her planned evening of cookery and aromatherapy, and how she needs to collect that painting soon. I'm much cheered by the whole experience: Weegies talk to you in a way that East coasters don't. Personal problems must be shared with all.