Fictional Tales & Little Digressions
Journeys Past: So there I am minding my own business, visiting historical buildings - only to be sent back in time to witness events unfolding in front of me. Did I really wake up kneeling in a puddle on the Bridge of Sighs? Or did I nearly get run over by a tramcar recently, considering that the last trams stopped operating way back in 1962? Or how about being hit over the head and then getting chucked out of a cathedral for snoring?
Fearless Francis: Francis is a wee boy living in a tenement in Glasgow in the 1950s. Children then didn’t know they were poor, they just got on with it and made do with what little they had. Often they just used their imagination, just like Francis, with his head full of nonsense, creating his imaginary adventures, usually ending up getting himself and others into trouble.
Book Reviews: Some books that I’ve enjoyed reading over the years. No affiliation links - just a personal opinion and not necessarily about Glasgow. Everyone likes a good read and there’s some interesting reviews that might surprise you.
Digressions: This my hotchpotch section. There might be a story or two, or a website I’ve visited, or maybe I’m trying to provoke discussion on a contentious subject. I do encourage comments.
I may have taken liberties with some historical facts, so you’re wasting your time challenging the timeline and veracity of some of my stories. “It’s ma baw”, as we say in Glasgow, meaning it’s my ball, my stories. However, I’ve provided links for some of the stories that you may find interesting.
“A good storyteller never lets facts get in the way.” - Dave Allen
There you have it. Just a non-profit personal blog. I don’t have any affiliate links and I’m not sellng anything. No annoying adverts or pop-ups. I hope you enjoy the stories. Please leave a comment on anything that you like or somethng that gets on your - nerves.
Unless otherwise stated, photographs posted on here are © Wishart Frankfield.
Photograph above by William Farlow The power of positive prayer with Thought Bricks This is a quote from the creator of the Thought Bricks course, Bernard:
There is no doubt at all that the contents of this course are surprising, especially to those who have not yet realised the mighty, magnetic, drawing and attracting power of directed thought. There are many, of course, who have known theoretically about this, but who have never applied it, or done so only at infrequent intervals and in a vague, experimental way.
The stranger was just a few steps behind me… I often walk the streets of Glasgow at night, and never felt any fear. I reasoned that if I worry about being attacked, my fear and timidity would be apparent and then I would attract the very undesirable attention that I am trying to avoid. Besides, I’m a tough lady and handy with the pointed end of my umbrella.
So, head held high, and striding quickly along the Gallowgate, I headed for home, tired and alone.
St Mungo comes to Cathures (Glasgow) Old hospitals are dismal places and Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary is no exception. Although there’s a modern extension next to it, the old Victorian building is still extensively used. I was visiting a friend who was in a ward in the old wing.
I had no intention of hanging around the corridors of this old hospital. I shudder to think what tales would unfold about this place, and was vaguely aware that there were many souls wandering aimlessly here.
Templeton Carpet Factory near Glasgow Green I like walking through Glasgow Green. Even as a lad, I’d walk down here. Sometimes my mother would send me out with my little sister in the pram and I was told to take her for some fresh air. It didn’t do my image any good – a wee boy pushing his sister about in a pram, but I ignored the other boys’ sneers and made the best of it.
Glasgow Cathedral survives the Reformation - just Although I was born in Glasgow and lived there most of my early life, I had never set foot inside the Cathedral until about two years ago. I’ve visited this great building on a few occasions since then.
Today I was inside the main hall, all spartan with the only colours being provided by the glass windows and faded flags. The interior colours were mostly light grey, dark grey and black.
Photographs by Wishart Frankfield (1999-2002)
Amateur night in a Glasgow music hall “You’ve got to ‘ave a bit of fun you know, life’s all fun!”
I’m surprised I’ve never been knocked down by a car or a bus – my head is always in the clouds, visualising, daydreaming, thinking up plots for stories. However, I never imagined being run over by a tramcar! The last time I saw a tramcar on a Glasgow street was in 1962.
The infamous Madeleine Smith case It was a nice warm day in Glasgow and I was out and about taking digital photographs outside the house at Number 7 Blythswood Square. Looking at the old building, it was hard to believe that of its many occupants over the years, one the most infamous being a young society lady in Victorian times who was accused of poisoning her lover.
After tinkering with the led display on my camera, I looked up and became aware that everything was becoming darker.
Amazon link (not affiliated) One man’s adventure across Italy on an old Vespa scooter ‘Vroom with a View’ by Peter Moore (Bantam 2005)
Unusually for me, I’m not reviewing a Scottish-themed book. It is a rather dull day in Scotland and as usual, the wind is driving the rain against my window. What better way to get away from all the gloom than to read a cheery book?
Amazon link (not affiliated) Neil Oliver’s book on Scottish history should be available in classrooms ‘A History of Scotland’ by Neil Oliver (Weidenfeld & Nicolson 2009)
I wish I was reading history books like these when I was at school - I may have paid more attention. I suspect though that the graphic detail of the fierce battles described in this book may have been heavily edited before any young eyes could read it.
We all like freebies. Try this goodie bag When I was a lad the local baker shops used to sell us kids what we called ‘lucky bags’. These contained broken biscuits, stale cakes and buns. They were served up in a big white paper bag and this veritable feast only cost 3d (three old pennies, pre-decimalisation) and contained more than enough to feed two hungry boys.
I was particularly fortunate because my mother was a friend of the lady who ran the small shop which was part of Milanda Bakeries.