I happened to look out of the window this afternoon and was surprised to see a lot of older folks swanning around outside the house. The men folk were wearing mostly khaki, carrying sticks and smoking pipes, while the women folk were scrubbed up nice in their slacks and pink gilets.
To my great astonishment some of them started taking photographs of the front of my house. This was astonishing because, well, it ain’t pretty, the front of my house!
Transpires that its East Lothian Open Garden day. This explains the smell of baking in the air, the teased back smiles of the neighbours and the sudden self consciousness about weeds, unwashed cars, scruffy, moaning children and moss in the gutters.
There was no option for me but to retreat to the back of the house, draw the blinds (Yes, a few of the more intrepid strangers had made their way through the field in order to be able to peak over the garden wall) and light a little candle against the world.
Explain?
I advise anyone to read Irving Layton’s Gucci Bag collection. Someone once gave him a Gucci Bag. He nailed it to the front door of his home as a talisman against the forces of acquisition. If I had a Gucci Bag I would, of course, nail it to my door. But even then, it would be as a memorial, rather than a line of defence. This is why I light little candles.
