It is proving to be one of those nights where sleep is an uneasy bedfellow. Perhaps it’s the effects of that second dram after spending too long in the rain with tractors and trailer, motorbike, paintbrush and costumes; perhaps it’s just the excitement as the Big Gala Day Parade draws nigh. But really I think it’s just one of the side effects of a wee tweak on my medication. Nurse, nurse…..
Anyway the day that will shortly dawn is indeed the day of the parade. I should manage to get some tales, pictures even, up in a day or two. Better still, if you’re in the area, come along and Hear Myrtle Moan. Before then there’s much work to be done with a willow to be whumped, or whatever it is that these child wizards get up to, and some meditation to get into character. Hang on, I’ve never seen or read of said Dimblebore, so let’s just wing it. And as we set about the final touches to the float before the parade, we’ll have musical accompaniment, for the AmDram mob are singing and dancing. Then Urchin the Elder will need to change, from legwarmers or whatever else the Fame crowd wear, back to school uniform and on with the Hogwarts cape. Hopefully we won’t need the ponchos, for the sky looks to be still and clear, ish.
Anyway, more of that later. The Word that has to be Spread is the written one. Some of you may recall a certain trumpet blowing a couple of months back, and may even then have managed to find a certain article elsewhere on these pages. That article is much easier to find at the moment, for it is out there, in the ether, for public consumption. I guess I’d better warn Herself.
Out There is very much what I do for news these days, the habit of turning daily pages long since past. On the sidebar you may have come across a link to the Caledonian Mercury, one of my regular habits in the new, interactive, instant, news media. Stewart Kirkpatrick set up the CalMerc a while back, resurrecting one of the old names of Scottish publishing. He has introduced a new forum to his pages, Scottish Voices, an outlet for, amongst other things, budding scribes from these parts. He was one of the select few to be copied into a press release from the Guild when my award was made, and I’m delighted to say has agreed to grace his pages with my words.
Just to make it easier to spread said words I’ve set out the link in full below, rather than embed it into this text. If you can bear to suffer it again, hear it is, in full, and in public:
Feel free to pass the link on, to spread my words, and Stewart’s. One other thing: Stewart has promised a small reward to the author who’s work receives the most hits. I’ve put forward Russell Macmillan’s charity as a nominee in my name. Go on, do your bit, please.
While you’re there though, spend some time on everything else the CalMerc has to offer. There’s heritage and outdoor stuff; and old Scot’s words;, chooks at the moment; and even political commentary from one of our top analysts, Hamish McDonnell. In the archive you might even find some ripping stuff from Rab, satire at it’s finest from the dark days of Iain Gray, though I couldn’t locate it myself at the moment, but it is silly o’clock. Whatever happened to Elmer Fudd? This where it all started. You might just find yourself wondering why you bothered with that Daily Whatever. It’s just a habit.