ReadyAimFire

Jacob's Weekend Diary...Saturday

I love my town. There's always something to see and do.

Dad spent the morning running about for Uncle Leo getting his bog sorted out while he relaxed in Wales with Uncle Felix. Mum went to work to make pennies to buy my dinner. Then Dad took me to Edinburgh Castle with my friend Baillie and his old man, Jason.

We parked the car at Dad's work and walked up the Royal Mile in beautiful sunshine. As we scaled the historic mile Dad noted to Jason that there was an inordinate amount of "pondlife" on the Royal walk this particular early afternoon. By "pondlife" I think he meant the gentlemen that varied between the very large varieties with lots of face paint on their arms, to those covered in that familiar brown n' tan check, to those with very large coins on their fingers and those with deep lines across their cheeks or chins. There seemed to be a lot of sports casualwear too but one thing they all had in common was they either had some of that pee coloured stuff in a big glass that Dad sometimes drinks or they were really desperate in the confusion if they didn't have a glass of the pee.

Anyway we messed about on the Esplanande for a bit climbing on statues, memorials and fire engines. When we got in we made our way to the cannons and waited patiently for the cannon to tell us it was one o'clock. "ReadyAimFire" Dad shouted. Nobody laughed. We waited and waited as the soldier man checked his watch. "BANG!!" went the gun (like in Gran's squirrel nursery rhyme). A burst black balloon flew about and smoke poured out. Everyone jumped. Very loud it was. We checked the view and heard one American compliment the Scotch people on their architecture in the new town view before him. "This little town is really neat". We took this picture just after and tried to decide which building we would wipe out with our cannon. The brown rocket or the concrete, lego zig zag beyond it. We opted for the zig zig building cos it blocked the "Vista de la Mecca" Dad said. I just thought it was mingin'.
After that we stuck our heads in Mons Meg. From here it was more war memorial with big books of names and big flags, swords and spears. As we wondered through to check out the history of the castle and the crown jewels (blingin') Dad had to field calls from Uncle Leo about his stuttering bog. The reception wasn't the best for such a height. Must've been the thick stone. So after shocking some Japanese and Amercians as he shouted how he won't have to flush his shit away with a bucket of water anymore we moved on to the Great Hall for lunch (or crisps - all over the floor). There was the biggest painting and the biggest fireplace ever in there. And more swords and spears. We wondered about some more, climbed rocks, fell off them, then headed for the exit.

On the way down the road there was quite a fuss in some kind of jamboree. There were men with orange pinnies on and some with royal guard type stuff. All the painted men with coins on their hands were waving and winking at each other. They paint their teeth too. The mums and children stood about smoking and we bounced down the road to the fantastic music. The drums were my favourite but the flutes made the tune. I had a great view from Dad's shoulders and he whistled along as we walked alongside. We waited til they stopped but they tried to stop us crossing the road at the bottom but then let us across anyway. Dad's green and white hoody didn't really fit in with the coordination of the day I guess. It was great fun the march. Great tunes and colours. They celebrate a great victory from just 317 years ago. Like Dad's football songs celebrate one that happened one New Year's Day last century ("though they were only up to their necks in Jambo tears" he said). I asked Dad if they would still be doing it when I was a man and he said "sure they will". All these little kids running about will be doing it for my benefit when I'm grown up he reckons. Cool, I thought. "The future's bright" Dad said.

From then we got the car and saw a man with bionic legs leaping about the street. "It'll never take off" said Dad. He says a lot of things my Dad. Home for early afternoon tea and Dad missed Scotland winning the football. Mum came home from work then went out again to a "Body Shop party" at her friends. I asked if she was gonna buy a new body. "Not yet" she said.

I was in bed for 8, asleep. It was a long day of padding the hoof and remembering and celebrating war and death. Phew!