From where I’m sitting I can see four cathedrals, a huge steel pimple, more trees than buildings, a motorway, a nineteenth century library, sixty-four windmills, a giant crane, a neighbour’s bathroom, one hundred and three other neighbours’ bathrooms, tenements, tower blocks, mansions and manses, and the Campsie Fells, because I live at altitude in the greatest little city in the world: Glasgow.
I wasn’t born in Glasgow, and I’ve spent less than half my life here, but in every meaningful way, Glasgow is where I’m from. Glasgow is home.
Work brought me here, and dick kept me here (one particular dick — I can’t speak to the general quality of Glasgow dick, although the scenes on Sauchiehall Street on Saturday nights suggest it is highly sought after), but there are days when I love the city m??o??r??e?? ??t??h??a??n?? almost as much as the dick I married.