Lockdown

In week  twelve of our new life, confined to the house and gardens, I thought  that a blog, with the story of one of my trips around the world, or Europe anyway, might be a slight diversion and show how one’s  view, in any kind of design can be changed…

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A simple task

About two years ago, I took on the task of writing a companion book for my History of Dalgarven Mill which was to cover the costume collection, the putting together of it, the quality of it, with little offshoots into lace making, Paisley shawls, Ayrshire blankets and the like.  Usually,…

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What you sow you reap….

What appears to be many moons ago, I did write a book about the history of Dalgarven Mill, and its eventual transformation through the Manpower Services Commission exercise into the really rather nice set of historical buildings that you see today. Two things have happened recently.  The first thing that…

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To absent friends

When Moira and I came to Dalry in 1973, we had hardly settled in when there was a loud knock at our imposing front door.  On opening it, I found a dapper gentleman who introduced himself immediately as Bill Gorman, our local councellor: he welcomed us to his town and…

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It’s in the genes

It is quite amazing that what you might think of as the family inheritance, either in terms of  buildings, bricks, pieces of furniture or skills and interests, seldom go to where you think they might have. I always thought that, having been an architect, a teacher and someone who has…

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