Here endeth a month of unremitting partying – for my parents, at least, who have spent every weekend in July celebrating their Golden Wedding Anniversary with friends, neighbours and family.I attended two out of the four Occasions, before returning to the Festival City, which has been warming up for a similar month of partying.In fact, if you include Film, Magic and Jazz, we’re already half way through.
For many, The Fringe is the festival, while others come here purely to see the Military Tattoo, which isn’t a festival as far as I’m concerned. It’s a far cry from the spirit of the original Festival, conceived as a ‘platform for the flowering of the human spirit’ after the horrific events of World War Two. Nevertheless, as the hoards arrive, one thing is certain: there’ll be lots to celebrate, with plenty of drinking going on, and maybe an extra phone box or two on the menu.
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.