Inbhir Nis

Mum and I went to see a play by the the Play Pieces production company today in Inverness. It follows the same sort of theme as the 'Pint a Pie and a Play' productions in Glasgow. We settled down with a lovely, salty pie and a pint of San Miguel. The play, 'Hand Prints in the Snow', was fantastically written and wonderfully acted. The whole play was acted out by one woman who depicted a neurotic, obsessive compulsive person who collected gloves. Each glove brought out the story of other characters (also acted in a semi-schizophrenic way by the actress) and which put the pieces of the story together.

We spent the rest of the day milling around town. We were walking down the High Street when two elderly twins caught my eye. They were sat on a bench and donned colourful hats and chunky beads. I took two steps past them before I turned around and asked for a photo. They declined in a streak of embarrassment, saying they were too old for photographs nowadays which I thought was a shame. I returned to the bench five minutes later with two cakes from a nearby bakery in an attempt to bribe them but they has gone. Probably in an attempt to escape the weirdo who keeps badgering them with a camera. I looked around the farmers market in a last ditch attempt to find them and bribe them.

But maybe it was too late anyway. What was I going to do if they declined? rugby tackle them both to the ground? throw the cake in their face? No. I thought probably not. The only other photograph I got today was of two Roma women being arrested, but I hesitated on putting it up since I'd have to really justify my reasoning and make clear my opinion that it is not them who are really in the wrong. I could write a novel on that so instead I'll just put up this photo of an old farmer's hand on his fresh veg.