Not this time

Noo here's a thing. Ah'm no aboot tae tell ye yin o' ma stories, no this time. Naw, ah want tae take a wee minute o' yer time, jist a minute, tae talk aboot a wee pet love o' mine, an' ye're no tae laugh at me.

But afore ah tell ye, ah want tae pit doon oan record ma gratitude fer the nice things ye've aw said. Ah wisnae awfy sure why ah wantit tae write yin o' thae blogs, an' ah still think it's fer ma ain pleasure first an' foremost, but when folk take the time tae read it, an' then make a comment, well, it gleddens ma heart tae be sure. Ye're no a big crowd, but ah prefer it that way, ah dinnae like big crowds onyway, an' tho ah dinnae ken whit ye's look like, ah'm feelin' that wee bit connection. Whit mair can ye ask fer in this big noisy atomised world we live in?

See. Ah'm gettin' a bit mawdlin' noo, ah kent a wid. The tablets dinnae aye work, ye know? Ah get a bit up'n'doon sometimes, which is why ah couldnae keep up the rate some o' ye dae. Ah'm no able tae jist sit doon an' write, ah've got tae be in the mood. That's why ah'm no gaunnae try tae be a news/politics blogger, ye've got tae be right up-tae-date fer that. Ah can only pit doon somethin' ye can read weeks later, cos ah'm aware that naebody's gaunnae check me day-in-day-oot, tae find the same thing sittin' there. Pop in noo an' again, an' ah'll try ma best. Ah'll find ma strength, an' ah'll play tae it.

Right. That said, ah'll get oan. Ma wee pet love, drum-roll.... is River City!

Ah've aye loved ma soaps, ever since Florrie Linley put her name abune the door o' the shop at the end o' Coronation Street an' Mrs Sharples had a go at her. Ah've enjoyed watchin' aw thae wee folk graw up, graw auld, an' then snuff it. Whit wi' crashes oan the viaduct, knockin-doons in the square, armed seiges in the close, ah tell ye ah've had ma work cut oot keepin' up. But nane o' them have felt real, they've aw jist felt like dramas oan the telly.

No till River City came alang that is. Tae be mair exact, no till the minute Johnny Beattie came through fae the scullery an' said tae his daughter "Wid ye like a wee piece oan cheese?"

That did it fer me. Ah felt right at hame. Noo it's got Johnny, Eileen McCallum, an' Una Maclean, ah feel like ah'm sittin' in the Citizen's Theatre, oan a wee day-trip tae Glesca toun. It's that real ah huv tae hae a bath when ah get hame!

Ah wis near greetin' the night, whit wi' the bother Scarlett's haein' wi that wee toe-rag Theresa. When she blurtit oot, right at the end, that wee Bob's no hers, but is in fact her sister's, well ah don't mind tellin' ye, ah swore at ma telly.

It crossed ma mind tae dae a weekly RiverCityUpdate sortae thing, fer there isnae yin oan the internet, wid ye credit it? But then ah thocht, ah awready watch it every week, so ah widnae find oot onythin' new.

Aw wait, ah'm gettin' masel confused noo, am ah no? Onyroads, ah'm weel aware naebody watches it but me, so ah'll jist keep it as ma dirty wee secret.

As Iona wid say, "Cheerie!!"