All Stories Start Somewhere
- Innes Thomson
- Apr 22
- 4 min read
original post April 2022
Edinburgh Beginnings
I was born in Edinburgh in 1968 to a hard-working family—solid morals, a few quirks, and just the right amount of comedic sibling chaos to provide plenty of material for this blog. Some of it might make the cut. Or none of it. We’ll see.
I’m the youngest of four. By a long way. I’ve always joked I was the result of a TV blackout in the '60s. Seriously—who even knew there were TV blackouts? In today’s world of instant everything, it’s wild to imagine a time when the little black box (with only three grainy B&W channels) just... switched off, forcing people to find alternative entertainment. Mind-blowing.
My relationships with my siblings? Let’s just say they’re “dynamic.” Nothing unusual in the grand scheme of family, though. That old saying—“You can choose your mates, but you cannae choose your family”—never rang truer.
My mum and dad were what you'd call textbook ordinary—solid people, sociable, friendly with the neighbours, surrounded by extended family on both sides. The “Average Joe” Scottish post-war family, in all the best ways.

Clermiston Days
I grew up in Clermiston (Clerrie, Clerrie Jungle 🤘🏻). Built in 1954, the Clermiston estate was part of Edinburgh’s big post-war housing push, tackling overcrowding in Leith and Gorgie. Today, it’s home to over 20,000 people, sitting between Drumbrae, Clerwood, and Corstorphine.
Mum and Dad moved into their “cooncil hoose” in the early '60s (I think). That means Mum’s clocked up over 60 years in the same place. My three older siblings were already on the scene, so when I arrived, I was... unexpected. Apparently, one sibling wasn’t thrilled about the new arrival, thinking I’d "stolen the limelight." There’s even a family tale involving a pillow and a mysterious attempt to restore the family to three kids. Banter? Maybe. Or maybe there’s a grain of truth behind those suspiciously blue eyes.
Looking back, my childhood was unremarkable, yet filled with the usual mix of victories, defeats, adventures, and misadventures. Moments of glee, sadness, fear, courage—all rolled into one. I could list endless stories about friends, foes, triumphs over trees, walks, and bees... and a fair share of woe involving trees, rocks, and knees.
School Days: Clermiston Primary

Yes, I'm in that picture above.
I went to Clermiston Primary—6 to 7 minutes from home. In a sprint? 3 minutes, tops. I could name at least a dozen routes to get there, each with its own strategic advantage or hidden hazard.
Clerrie Memories (in no particular order):
Mischief. Lots of it.
Climbing on roofs—mandatory.
Jannie’s Helper status = access to the boiler room (elite).
Bullying was real. I was both a target and, sadly, sometimes the culprit.
Morning milk—ice-cold in winter, rancid in summer. Cheers, Thatcher.
Games—Hidey, British Bulldogs, Tig, marbles, footy variants galore.
Football cards—doublers, trades, and schoolyard economics.
Scraps and fights—I mostly came second.
The belt—got it for fighting. We're Facebook friends now, that guy.
Sports days—bragging rights up for grabs.
School footy team—pure glory. We finished runners-up in the Leith Schools Cup (1–3 to Granton after leathering them 6–2 earlier in the season). One of our lads made it to Scotland U19s and full Professional Career with highlights and lowlights including playing for the Hibs.
Royal High: The Not-So-Glorious Years
Next came Royal High School—a 10-minute walk, fewer detours unless mischief or girls were involved.
Four feeder schools fed into RHS—Clerrie, Cramond, Silverknowes, Davidson’s Mains. I... did not thrive academically. Scraped a few O-levels and left at the first chance. One of my biggest regrets? Maybe.
Royal High Memories:
Detentions. Corridor time. Daily exclusions.
First crushes, first kisses, first fags.
Getting into Theatre Arts (S4)—no clue why.
Missing croissants in French. Still hurts.
Dodging a school trip to Ben-Hur—my bad.
Wedgies, stink bombs, and practical jokes. Classics.
I wasn’t unhappy, just more drawn to mischief-makers than model students. Most teachers probably wouldn’t remember me.
RHS Sports Life
Rugby—1st team S1, captained 2nd team in S2–S3, a few 1st team games in S4 before losing interest.
Football—barely. Frowned upon at RHS.
Cricket—played wickie with no clue what I was doing.
Fast Forward: Career & Life
Left school early, dabbled in retail fashion, then trained as an electrician—four-year apprenticeship at a major Edinburgh employer. That kicked off a journey into electronics, then sales, then sales management. Some wins. Some spectacular messes.
In 2000, I moved to Australia. Built a solid career, ran teams, grew businesses—up to $250M in revenue, 200+ staff. I’ve seen the highs, the lows, and the absolute WTFs.
And now.......
I have cancer.
But aside from that, because therell be plenty of that in posts to come, I also work with some of the best people I’ve ever met, at a boutique tech firm that punches well above its weight. I’m learning, laughing, helping clients, and still loving what I do.
Things I Love
Kerry ❤️
Carter & Miles ❤️ (even when they’re wee shites)
Eating out
Cocktails
Football (soccer)
Holidays
Movies
Live music & gigs
My scooter, Rudi
And just for the record: I hate the Hibs. They make me spew up.(But some of my oldest mates are Hibbies. Go figure.)
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