Wimseycal

Whenever I'm up in the South West of Scotland I never miss an opportunity to visit Wigtown; our friends in Kirkcolm are within spitting distance (relatively speaking) of this charming little literary town (a kind of Scottish Hay-on-Wye). I liken it to walking down the Charing Cross Road in times gone by such is the proliferation of bookshops. Uppingham in Rutland was the same until they all closed; many of the books still on my shelves today are from the aforementioned literary arcadias.

Last week I dived into a couple of these emporiums and came out clutching some 'must haves' - one of them being a collection of Lord Peter Wimsey short stories from the pen of Dorothy L. Sayers. Wimsey, whilst more playful than Poirot (and definitely less musty than Marples), would have given Agatha Christie's two main protagonists a run for their money in the crime solving stakes any day of the week. Sayers and Christie were not just contemporaries, but also founding members of the Detection Club* and even collaborated on a couple of stories together.

* Formed in 1930 it was an exclusive club for British mystery writers. How cool is that? And they're still going today.

...

Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957)

Roll over, lay down

There's a shitstorm brewing (and rightly so) over Sydney Sweeney's recent ad campaign for American Eagle jeans. You know it's entered the realms of craziness when the President of the United States wades in and says 'hold my beer'.

Oh, for simpler times when U.S. clothing company behemoths would shaft U.K. rock bands and pay them peanuts; Rick Parfitt of the Quo took his rancour over the Levi's 'deal that wasn't' to the grave. And who can blame him?

Point & shoot

In the foreword for this month's Photo Challenge I spoke about point & shoot. I'm sure I don't need to mansplain so I'll quickly cut to the chase: the current Mrs Medd and I nipped into town earlier this evening for a couple of drinks followed by a rather splendid Chinese meal. Walking to the bus stop to wend our way home, just as the light was fading, I fired off a trio of quick pics all taken with my phone and all three within 50 metres of one another. I was pointing and I was shooting. (Ignore the stopped clock at the main Post Office (above) - tho' as we all know it will be right twice a day.)