Hard to plase
(The inside of my front door: Glasgow, UK)
Panic not. This is not the actual front door to the flat, this is the ‘close’ door (pronounced as in ‘hold me close’, not as in ‘close the door). I’m not sure why the atrium stairway to all the flats is called a close in Scotland, or even if the same term is used elsewhere, but here, we call it a close. This is the ‘close door’ and the inside of it always displays several posters; one from Strathclyde Police about security, one about recycling and one about refuse collection I think. For a while there was a poster with a local MSP (member of the Scottish Parliament) on it, but it disappeared some time back.
This sign hasn’t always been there, but it has been sellotaped just above the door latch for a couple of years at least. There are a few things that simultaneously amuse and annoy me about it. For one, it has a dash between each word, for reasons known only to the author. It has been written with marker pen on what appears to be a hastily cut portion of an envelope, an envelope for a blindness charity no less. I only noticed after several months that it was spelled incorrectly. Now each time I go to the door, I notice its flaws and appreciate them with a resigned sigh, particularly the non existent word ‘plase’ which I say in my head when I cast my eyes over it. For the length of time it has been there, I’m surprised that no one has corrected it, removed it or replaced it. I have considered doing all three, but once done, I know I’d regret spoiling it immediately – not to mention run the risk of inadvertently offending a resident of the close by considering their hand made sign inadequate. Now it is immortalised here for everyone to enjoy.
– Today Rosie is either visiting her Gran or drawing away, or both in Glasgow, UK –
you-are-so-lacist, lah!