This tale was stirred from my memory banks by a friend at Writers’ Circus.

At the time, there was a challenge to write 500 words “To make Sir Billy Connolly laugh.”

In by youth I worked in the same shipyard as Billy and our paths crossed when I asked him to sing at a folk night organised by a church youth fellowship I was involved with. He was very funny and I am sure he would readily agree, so were many others we worked alongside at that time.

Here is the tale, from those long ago days when the shipyards were full of characters larger than life.

(I did try to get it down to 500 words but they could not contain the story and do it justice.)

This is a little tale about a boy who likes to play hide and seek.

One day, he found a very unusual hiding place which was a wee bit scary.

The illustration of Dorothy the Dragon is by their big cousin Matthew, who is 9.

The illustration of Sebastian the Scorpion is by Ethan, who is 6.

This little tale has been lurking in the back of my mind for years. It is based on a family story told many times by my father, Jack, who did indeed cycle out to far flung building sites, in all weathers, his yellow cape and sou’wester his only protection against rain, sleet and snow, often returning home frozen to the bone.

At that time, building trade workers were paid ‘travelling time and expenses’ and, with ‘overtime’ at ‘time and a half’ for weekday evenings and ‘double time’ on weekend days, every extra penny was welcome in our single end at 84 Greenview Street, in Pollokshaws.

(To read a bit more from this period, before the re-development of Pollokshaws under the slum clearance programme, try searching on this website for ‘The Go Between’.)

When Writers’ Circus set a challenge to write on the topic of ‘rubbish’, I decided to try to write it down. Yes, the link is tangential but it was the best I could muster.

The title of this piece?

My Mum was a tea drinker, Betty the Tea Jenny. Like Granny Bremner, Mum was teetotal all her life. Her tipple was American Cream Soda.

So, read on, delve back into the past. Nostalgia never dies.

Many thanks again to Kareth my Editor, who hoes tirelessly through my output of drivel to correct all sorts of spelling, logic and grammar errors and meticulously ensures necessary ‘commas’ are added while battling to eliminate my penchant for the spurious ‘that’ word!

At our Writers’ Circus group the ‘chair’ rotates and the incoming ‘chair’ sets the topic

for the following monthly meeting.

The topic set was : “an unexpected encounter”.

This provided an opportunity to weave fantasy with fiction and get down snippet tales many

of my fishing, golfing and singing buddies will have heard, perhaps more than once?

The final scenario, a walk in the park on a snowy winter’s afternoon with a friend’s dog

did happen and I was in real danger, a near death experience which, I suppose, leads us to

the opening scene.

This is a tale from a recent encounter with our grandsons, Ethan (nearly 6) and Drew,

(newly 4).

I hope most parents and grandparents will recognise the atmosphere small children

create as they learn the ways of adults.