Monday, September 24, 2012

Doors Open Day

I've meant to go to see the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historic Monuments of Scotland for some time. That mouthful of a name makes it sound so dull, does it not? Much Edwardian earnestness is expected: it's actually brilliant. I saw a display of photos of vanished industries, heard their photgrapher talk about his work, and listened to a talk by John Hume about his work in recording industry in Glasgow and elsewhere. In the questions after, somebody trotted out some cliches about the decline of shipbuilding in that city and was treated to a two minute course in economic history.

They were also selling some publications cheap and I bought a book that I had browsed through before, of photos by Erskine Beveridge. I'd never heard of him before either. They are wonderful pictures with that time-machine quality of good photography. That man is standing in front of his black house now.

This all turned into the main event of the day, but I did also get to see behind the scenes at the Queens Hall (quirly fact: they have a electrical substation inside the building), saw how my former next door neighbours in the old vet school building are getting on, and caught up with the highly specific and splendid Causey project.

So it was doors open in Newington rather than Edinburgh really, but I suppose I've lived here long enough for it to feel like home and to care what the neighbours are up to.

Friday, September 21, 2012

My evening so far

I know, it's been ages.

When I came home tonight, a somewhat drunk couple were smoking on my doorstep (I live in a tenement, so that's the street door). That's OK. They let me past and the woman explained their presence as being because they were giving their rabbit some exercise. And sure enough, they had a white rabbit on a lead.  It seemed content. I told them that was fine and went in.

They've gone now, and I'm wondering if it was a dream. I feel I have to pass this on. There was a bit of shouting for a while. The rabbit was just an excuse, surely?