A strange morning, that - a sense of recording stuff that may never be heard, never read. Going out at 9.30 on such a gloomy, misty morning reminded me of going to work, especially as the Community Radio bods had set up shop in Dunoon Primary School - it seemed small enough to be a cupboard, but may have been an intimately small teaching space crammed with equipment (pictured). I spoke about myself, read some of my poems, played some of my choice of music, sold a couple of my books and had a coffee bought for me - an agreeable way to spend a dreich morning. Small kilted children came and went in pursuit of their competitions (The Mod - remember?) and as we left I could hear the next programme going out in Gaelic.
And then? the stuff that no-one may read? Well, there's always this blog, but I've also put my morning on the One Day in History blog, urged on by the exhortations of Neil Winton. I read the other day that no government had yet fallen through the activities of bloggers, but who knows what future historians may make of such minutiae?