Bank Holiday Drivel

Being a Bank Holiday, one I did not realise was in the air until late last night, the weather has arrived as normal.  Bright clouds in the morning, rain threatening ones now.  This is how UK weather works.  It offers the prospect of sunshine early on, waits until the family have ventured out into the great outdoors, and darkens the skies, ruins the day, adding extra rain if possible, and leaving tension and fury abundant.  It happens all the time and they still fall for it.  Men in shorts, dark glasses fixed, walk past ignoring the chill in the air and muttering about cold drinks for lunch.  The English, probably the stupidest nation on earth.  I mean, who else would still try to claim Brexit worked?  And this why we find them adjusting the dark glasses in the rain!

I remain closeted indoors.

With nothing happening, and the only live football not appearing on my screen, I am forced to think for myself about the world around me.

Silence.

I tried coffee but this did not inspire.

No news to react with.  Nothing but fillers concerning Charlie's big day.  An occasional murder, a grumpy tv presenter, and myriads of Bimbo's in the media.  Nothing worth noting.

I have watched the steam engines on the West Somerset Railway passing by.  This was interesting, though I would much rather have been there on the train itself.  In fact my Railcard, offering reduced travel, ran out and I had hardly used it and therefore got no bargains from it.  That must be changed and I must get onto a train soon.

I could read books, there are plenty I am reading all at the same time alongside me.  But the effort is so trying.  They must be lifted, carried, opened, read and sometimes thought about.  Too much on a Bank Holiday I say.

I discovered this the other week, this has some interest.  The author runs around Edinburgh tenements

seeking the stories of those who have lived there in times past.  He checks on them through the local papers.  The lives lived are mixed as much as you can imagine in Edinburgh.  Rich and poor, good and bad, but all worth a look I say.  ''Tenement Town' sums Edinburgh up nicely.  Large and dominating tenements thrive in Scotland.  This was due to the 'Feu Duty.'  A tax paid to the owners of the land.  This did not exist in England, and the way around this was to build tenements four story's high.  Each had four flats on a floor and this meant in buying one flat you only paid part of the 'Feu.'  The flats were usually then 'let out.'  I was reared for almost three years in one before moving to the then, new estate.  Some were inhabited by those with money, others like us!  The better ones had a complicated door mechanism.  The front door, the main door was locked.  The brass bells were on the side, you chose one and pulled hard.  This rang a bell outside the chosen flat, if they wanted you they came to their front door, pulled another brass lever, this clicked it's way to the main door, lifted the latch, and allowed entrance.  I remember many of the better buildings having these in the 60's.  I suspect the lower orders moving in has either meant the main door is unlocked or new bells are installed, with a phone attached!