Kaimes: the thread linking the “magnificent madness” of a Victorian gun collector to Leith, Corstorphine and Peeblesshire

Kaimes is one of those local place names you just seem to take for granted, without it having any particularly obvious meaning. It comes from the Scots word came or kame, for a comb or crest – describing the landscape feature of a hill or ridge – in turn coming from the Old English Camb. Indeed there is a Kaimes house and Kaimes Hill out by Dalmahoy where the 17th century spelling by mapmaker John Adair is Combs and that by William Roy in the 1750s is Kaims.

The Kaimes in the south of Edinburgh was a small village at the crossroads of the Burdiehouse, Howden Hall, Frogston and Captain’s1 roads (and is also known as Kaimes Crossroads) and has exactly the same meaning, describing two ridges on the rising ground south of the city. William Roy spells this one as Cames and in An Account of the Parish of Liberton in 1792 it is given as “the two Kaims“. The east-west route of Frogston and Captain’s Road was formerly the Kames Road, running from Fairmilehead to the Lasswade Road. By the 19th century the spelling had settled on Kaims – an Ordnance Survey name book of 1852 records it being updated from Cames at that time – and an e was inserted later to give us the modern spelling.

You can still find Kaimes Cottage, it’s a quite obvious older interloper in 20th century suburbia of the district. It was, in the 1850s and ’60s, the home of Mr Robert Grieve; a horticulturist noted for his pinks, his pansies and his picotees. His collection of over 1,500 plants was publicly auctioned after his death in 1866.

Kaimes School was opened in 1976 as a purpose-built school for partially sighted children. It is in the grounds of Gracemount High School, where it had been established as a unit in the late 1960s following a recommendation for such a facility as far back as a report in 1950. It could accommodate 100 children of primary and secondary age, from all across Scotland. Particular attention was paid to lighting, a special window coating used to keep out glare from the sun and all rooms being controllable up to a level 3x that of a standard school setting.

There is also a Kaimhead on the Salisbury Crags in the city, with the same OS name books confirming the toponymy:

This name applies to the crest of a low ridge or mound situated a little to the eastward of “Jeanie Deans’ Cottage” in the Queen’s Park. It is derived from the Scottish word “Kaim”, a low ridge, the crest of a hill, and is generally known in the locality

And there is of course yet another Kaimes in the city and it’s on a hill too. I speak of course of Kaimes Road in Corstorphine and it’s fiendishly steep as you’ll know if you’ve ever walked or tried to cycle up it.

But this Kaimes isn’t named for the hill it is on, instead it’s named for a distant promontory, Kaimes on the estate of Halmyre, near Romannobridge in Peeblesshire. This is because the land here was owned by and developed for one Charles Ferrier Gordon of Halmyre, an eccentric gun collector, and this connection takes our story on an unexpected tangent.

Gordon also gave his name to the streets in this part of Corstorphine of Gordon Loan and Cairnmuir Road (from Cairnmuir, on the Baddinsgill Estate, also at one time in his ownership). He had also inherited land in Leith via his mother, Magdaline Ferrier, from whom he also took his middle name. This gives us the streets of Halmyre, Gordon and Ferrier (the latter disappeared during cleared in the 1970s). Charles’ grandfather was William Gordon, an illegitimate son of Sir William Gordon of Gordonstoun, 6th bt. Although he could not inherit his father’s title, he inherited money from him and spent this on the Halmyre estate in Peeblesshire in 1808.

The name Halmyre is toponymic, describing a hall (house) on a myre (marshy ground). William built it up into a model Victorian farming and sporting estate, improving and expanding its 16th century mansion house in the fashionable Scottish Baronial Revival style of the day. Charles was the son of William’s sixth son Archibald Gordon, a military doctor, and was born in England. His mother died when he was only 3 weeks old and at this time his father was sent to the Crimea on service, so the baby Charles was sent to the family seat of Halmyre to be raised by an aunt and uncle (Richard Gordon of Halmyre, who had bought the estate when his father William had died). Uncle Richard died in 1865 but a condition of Charles’ inheritance was that he would not come into his majority until he was 31. But his affairs were well managed for him and he was comfortably off, so devoted himself to the life of a country laird at Halmyre, his name appearing in the Peeblesshire papers in the 1880s and 1890s in connection with agricultural shows.

But most of all he indulged in his number one passion in life – guns. Between 1875 and 1904 he is estimated to have amassed a “bewildering succession” of over 300 guns, having most of these custom-built for him by John Dickson & Son of Princes Street in Edinburgh. Each of his guns was said to have “quirks and odd features” and these is something they shared with their master.

Censuses in 1881, 1891 and 1901 record Charles as living at Halmyre with only a housekeeper and a cook (and of course his hundreds of guns). Despite his wealth, such was his appetite for guns that he had to begin feuing off his inherited land to fund his habit – this was the land in Leith and Corstorphine whose street names we have already mentioned. But all was not well with Charles; he was described in contemporary newspapers as being “long of unsound mind” and “incapable of managing his affairs“, indeed his biography is entitled “Magnificent Madness”. He had spent tens of thousands of pounds (millions in 2023) on his gun collection – most of which were never even fired – and amassed substantial debts.

In 1908, adverts in the Scotsman announced the sale of “Sporting Guns and Rifles, Shot Barrels, Powder Flaks, Game Panniers etc. A collection manufactured to the order of Charles Gordon Esq. of Halmyre.” His book collection appeared in the same Edinburgh auction house the following year and three years later, in 1912, his three half-sisters by his father’s second marriage – Alice, Magdalene and Isabella Gordon – sold the estate of Halmyre by public roup (auction) for £12,000. Isabella moved into Halmyre House itself. They were acting curator bonis – in Scots law this means “a legal representative appointed by a court to manage the finances, property, or estate of another person unable to do so because of mental or physical incapacity“.

In 1911, aged 57, he was living alone at Logan Cottage in West Linton with only a single servant for company. His half-sisters did not include the cottage of Kaimhouse, which lends its name to the street in Corstorphine, on the estate in the sale, and this is where he lived out his final days. Charles Ferrier Gordon died there in 1918 aged 64; the summary of his biography says he was “a man who bankrupted his estate ending his days alone with all his possessions sold, insane and incapable of running his affairs.” But he did not find peace in death, within months the Misses Gordon, his curator bonis, went to court to challenge his will. This document had been hand-written and signed by Charles in 1908, leaving what remained of his estate to one Eleanora Gordon-Cumming (who was no direct relation), also known as Eleanora Nakesaka. Despite him blowing most of his wealth on his gun obsession, at the time of his death he still left behind, after debts and expenses, the not insignificant amount of £5,924 11s 1d (c. £252k in 2023), which clearly Eleanora felt was worth pursuing a claim on.

The Misses Gordon contested that “he was throughout his life, of unsound mind, and on account of his mental state incapable of managing his affairs or giving proper directions to their management“. Charles had become acquainted with Eleanora prior to 1907, and for a period in 1912 had lived with her and her husband in Edinburgh. Eleanora was represented in court by her husband, a language teacher, and pleaded that the will was “genuine, clear and deliberate expression of [his] wishes“, the Misses Gordon – represented by Mr Wilson KC – maintained that Charles “was incapable of understanding the importance and effect of the will” and therefore it could not be so. It took the court and jury just a day to find against Eleanora and in favour of the Misses Gordon.

That might have been that, but Eleanora and her husband, Michel Naake Nakeski, were serial litigants and would not let their loss lie. They had been bankrupted in September 1923, and in November that year a strange case came up in the Court of Session whereby he attempted to sue the lawyer representing the estate of Charles Ferrier Gordon – J. Harold Macdonald WS – for the sum of £960 (about £48k in 2023). Michel ‘s case made 3 different claims:

The balance of the claim was 11 years interest. The judge, Lord Morison, found that Nakeski had produced no actual evidence besides his own “vague and unsatisfactory” testimony, and “gave no intelligible account” of his alleged transactions. He threw the claim out and no expenses were found against him on the condition that he did not proceed with further such litigation. Instead, Michel found a new spurious claim to try and in December that year he sued the War Compensation Court for £1,500 (£75k in 2023) on account of a military order that stipulated he “could not reside without permission in certain areas” during the war on account of his Polish birth which had therefore limited his earning potential as an itinerant tutor of languages. Once again, the case was thrown out. The John Bull magazine describer Eleanora in 1924 as an “inveterate, cadging mendicant“. The couple never had much luck in court; Michel had been fined £15 in 1919 by the Sheriff Court for failing to provide himself an identity book “as required by the Aliens Restriction (Consolidation) Order, 1916“, for her part Eleanora was fined £2 2s. She appealed the fine, lost, and found it increased to £9 11s for her pains.

You can read an article from Shooting Sportsman about Charles Ferrier Gordon and his gun collection, here.

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The Edinburgh Radium Bomb: the thread about the Beechmount Institute

A couple of things happened recently. A fire at the former Corstorphine Hospital prompted me to read up and write about the history of that establishment and it was also the annual Christian Aid bumper booksale in Edinburgh, at which I picked up an excellent history of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh1 (amongst many other things.) These circumstances converged to pique my interest in Beechmount, a grand mansion house which was, for a short time at least, the exotic and atomic sounding National Radium Centre and a pioneer in the field of radiotherapy.

Beechmount, set amongst 8 acres of woodland, was built in 1900 in an Italianate style to designs by Messrs McArthy & Watson as the private residence of Sir George and Lady Mary Anne Anderson. The land was feud from the Beechwood Mains estate at Murrayfield and its name was a simple amalgam of the neighbouring properties of Beechwood and Belmont.

Sir George was treasurer of the Bank of Scotland from 1898 to 1917, which explains how the coat of arms of that institution came to be found above the house’s main door and grand fireplace. He was the first Scottish “banker knight“, his title conferred for services to his industry. After his retirement in 1917, the Andersons spent their retirement at Beechmount as respected members of Edinburgh society. Sir George died there on December 1st 1923, aged 78. Lady Anne survived him before she too passed away in the house on 26th May 1926, aged 80. Her husband had intended that the house be left to his bank as an official residence for its treasurer but Lady Anne instead bequeathed it to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. She recommended it be used as a convalescent home for servicemen injured during World War I but gave the hospital managers final discretion as to its use. In addition, £5,000 was left to them to help adapt the property to its new purpose.

And that may have been that for the Beechmount story had it not been for the rapid development of a new field of medicine. In 1926, the Infirmary had been able to purchase 500mg of the radioactive element Radium – a substantial proportion of the entire global supply of it at that time – as the result of a donation of £5,000. It began to experiment in its use for the treatment of “malignant disease“; cancer. Prior to this, the only known treatment was surgical removal of tumours and the new branch is what we now call Radiotherapy. To begin with, Radium treatments were undertaken in the main buildings of the Infirmary at Lauriston Place by introducing tiny amounts of the element directly into tumours using needles, different coloured threads attached to them indicating the radioactive strength. However it soon became clear that a specialised unit dedicated to the therapy would be desirable and in 1928 it was decided that Lady Anderson’s bequest should be fitted out as such; the Beechmount Radium Institute.

The medical promise of Radium was great but so too were the costs, dangers and difficulties associated with its use. As a result, in 1929 the government established the Radium Trust to source and hold supplies of the wonder material for the nation and the National Radium Commission to oversee its regulation and distribution. The Commission did not want to deal purely with hospitals and so in 1930 a joint partnership between the Royal Infirmary and the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Edinburgh was set up to combine their teaching and research in the field in order that they could mutually benefit from the national supply. In the meantime £11,000 was spent on the Beechmount project and the new facility, with 36 in-patient beds, was opened in October 1932. To begin with patients continued to be treated at the Infirmary and were sent to the new annexe for their pre- and post-treatment convalescent care, however the entire process was soon centralised at the Institute.

The facility was overseen by the respected surgeon John James McIntosh (J.J.M.) Shaw, a military doctor, pioneer in reconstructive plastic surgery and member of both the Radium Trust and Commission. Its first matron was Margaret Colville Marshall, later “Lady Superintendent” of the Infirmary and awarded the OBE for this service. From his base at Beechmount, J.J.M. oversaw the establishment of the Cancer Control Organisation for Edinburgh and Southeast Scotland in 1934, a group of influential (and wealthy) members of society to help organising towards the running costs of the Institute. That same year the Radium Commission approved the Infirmary’s proposal that Beechmount become the National Radium Centre for southeast Scotland, the first of five such centres proposed for the country.

With the support of the Commission an additional 80omg of Radium was acquired and combined with the existing supply to form a mass unit of the material that was called a “Radium Bomb“. This made history as the first such Bomb outside of London and meant that treatments could be made indirectly, focussing the emitted radiation towards the tumour from a few inches away, rather than introducing it directly on needles. This new method was far more efficient and effective and was far safer for both the patient and the medical staff. The Commission also provided funding to pay for the running costs of the Bomb and to safely maintain and house it.

In 1936, J.J.M. reported that “treatment of malignant disease in certain situations such as the throat by means of the radium mass unit or ‘bomb’ has surpassed anything previously known“. He was joined at this time by Dr Margaret (Peggy) Tod as Honorary Associate Assistant Surgeon. Tod stayed for only a year before moving on to become the Deputy Director of the Holt Radium Institute in Manchester, but made “an outstanding contribution to the pioneering work at Beechmount“. The Infirmary’s capacity to administer radiotherapy increased exponentially as a result of dedicating Beechmount to it; in 1939 it reported over 15,000 treatments had been administered, up from only 907 just five years previously.

From 1937, the matron was Jean Ritchie and she served in this post until 1939 when the Institute was closed “for the duration” and re-purposed as a convalescent Auxiliary Hospital; this scheme was directly funded by central government and allowed patients to be removed from the main Infirmary thus freeing up capacity there for dedicated military use or for civilians injured as a result of air raids. The Radium Bomb was removed to the Infirmary and buried at the bottom of a 40 foot deep well shaft to avoid it resulting in a “dirty bomb” in the event it was hit by an air raid. Sadly, Dr Shaw died on wartime active service with the Royal Army Medical Corps in Cairo in September 1940, aged 54, having contracted dysentery while serving as the Consultant Surgeon to the Army GHQ.

After the war, Radiotherapy in Edinburgh was concentrated at the Western General Hospital and Beechmount was not returned to that use. Instead it remained as a 46 bed convalescent home, operated in tandem with the Corstorphine Home and attached to the Royal Infirmary. In 1974, reorganisation of the medical bureaucracy saw Beechmount detached from the Infirmary and grouped in with other small district hospitals in the Lothians to provide specialist geriatric convalescent care.

One long-standing problem of Beechmount was that the building was accessible from the main road only by a very steep set of stairs or a driveway with multiple hairpin bends. In 1969 an ambulance driver did not correctly apply the brakes of his vehicle resulting in it careering 50 yards down the embankment before progress was arrested by a mature tree. Fortunately the occupants, Mrs Ella Hamersley and Mr Charles Baker, suffered only minor injuries. For the benefit of less mobile visitors to the hospital, members of the Corstorphine Rotary Club used their own cars to provide a shuttle service of rides up and down the gradient during visiting hours.

In 1987 the Lothian Health Board denied that it had plans to either close Beechmount Hospital or convert it into a unit for the specialised treatment of patients with HIV/AIDS. However the following year it proposed the closure and sale of the hospital amid a widespread rationalisation and cost cutting plan. The Board cited the fact that the facility was costing £360,000 a year to run, its opponents countered that the running costs of convalescent hospital beds was only a third of that at major hospitals like the Royal Infirmary or the Western General. But the site was potentially very valuable to developers and with the support of the Secretary of State for Scotland, in what the Daily Record dubbed the “Sick Sale of the Century“, Scotland’s health boards were backed from the top to dispose of a swathe of surplus property on the open market to raise money for their capital budgets. Beechmount was closed in 1989 and the house and grounds were to be sold the following year for £1.8 million. The sale fell through however, as did a scheme to convert it into a Hotel. In 1993 the Health Board intended to build a new dental hospital at Beechmount but found it could not afford the renovation costs of £6 million. The premises were in the interim leased to the Scottish Wildlife Trust who used it for offices and returned to the market and finally sold by the Health Board in 1996, the former staff accommodation being converted into apartments and returned to residential use. It was on the market again in 2018 for offers over £4.5 million and eventually sold. It is currently (2025) being used as emergency accommodation for those experiencing homelessness.

If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site – including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget to find further stories to bring you – by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.

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“To the Glory of God, for the Welfare of the Poor”: the thread about the Corstorphine Convalescent Home

Corstorphine Hospital may have been shut for over a decade, but it (briefly) made the news earlier this week as a result of a fire in the abandoned building. I had a front-row seat as I happened to cycle past on my way to work; by which time it was fortunately under the control of the Fire Brigade before it had a chance to have properly taken hold.

The building was first opened on 2nd August 1867 as the Convalescent Home for the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. Five acres of the Meadowhouse Farm had been feud from landowner Sir William Hanmer Dick-Cunyngham bt. the previous year, allowing the institution to be set back from the road on a gentle, south-facing slope for the best sunlight and vistas across to the Pentland Hills.

It was a fairly plain building to designs by Messrs Peddie & Kinnear. It originally had 44 beds in two wings, 26 for men and 18 for women, with a service block in the centre that extended to the rear. It was intended to accommodate patients from the Infirmary who were recovering after operations and treatment, for periods of around 3 weeks. It did not however deal with infectious diseases cases, as these were dealt with by separate hospitals. The extended natures of most stays, along with the fact that patients may be paying for the privilege, meant that the standard of accommodation was good; a mix of private rooms and small wards with two or three beds. Space per “inmate” (as the patients were termed) was also very generous in the name of airborne disease control. The decorative stone was brought from Dunsmore Quarry near Stirling with the infill from nearby Hailes Quarry. Heating was by open fires and there was as yet no piped water supply in the district of Corstorphine and so a well was sunk in the grounds.

The new Home allowed the variety of makeshift – and often inappropriate – convalescent houses in the city to be closed and all work centred on a modern building; well staffed by medical professionals, in a pleasant setting on the outskirts of the noise, smells and diseases of the city. It was funded to the tune of £12,000 by an anonymous philanthropic gentleman who did not want his name attached to it. It later transpired that this was William Seton Brown of Prestonpans, a wealthy London-based merchant who had made his money in Bombay and Shanghai. He came from a missionary family in East Lothian and his younger brothers, Alexander and Robert Ebenezer, were doctors who had died early in life in their 20s and 30s.

The inscription above the doorway of the Home read, in Latin, “To the glory of God, for the welfare of the poor, and in memory of most affectionate brothers, the surviving brother caused this house of healing to be built“. This overlooked somewhat that the fourth and oldest brother and also a medical doctor – John Taylor Brown – outlived them all! In its early years the supply of fresh water was an obvious problem as the Home required 4,000 gallons a day, which clearly was a rather ridiculous proposition to try and source from a well. It took until 1878 for the Edinburgh & District Water Trust to pipe a supply in, which Corstorphine village also benefited from. By 1881 the Home had 50 beds, with an average occupancy of 37. 660 patients were being treated per year, with an average stay of 20 days at a cost of 13s 11d per head, per week. The institution was very efficiently run with only a 1.3% management overhead and it’s annual income of £4,491 exceeded expenditure.

In 1892 the Home was closed for a year and a half to extend it to a capacity of 100 beds and provide general improvements. This was made possible by a bequest from local engineer James “Steam Hammer” Nasmyth and saw the corner towers heightened and extension blocks added to each wing and the addition of south-facing balconies at 1st floor level. The original architects were employed, by now known as Kinnear & Peddie.

For some, the quiet and regimented life of the Convalescent Home proved relaxing and recuperative. But it wasn’t to everyone’s taste: many found it an overbearing straitjacket and discharged themselves against doctors orders just to escape. Yet others were told firmly to leave on account of their lasciviousness and drunkenness; while it catered for both men and women, the sexes were kept strictly apart.

In the year 1912, 1,323 patients had stayed at the Home with 925 of those staying for more than 3 weeks. It was found that very few had to return to the Infirmary after their time in Corstorphine, proving the utility of such institutions in freeing up primary hospital beds and aiding in recovery. From 1923 onwards, Corstorphine was joined by the Astley Ainslie Institution in providing convalescent care for the Infirmary. This modern facility was to pioneer long term care, medical supervision and rehabilitation. Little changed at the Corstorphine Home, which remained focussed on the traditional shorter stay recuperation for patients before they returned to their lives. A nod to modernisation came in 1927 when wireless receivers were installed and £80 was raised to provide headphones for patients to listen to the programming. The following year – 1928 – 1,612 patients were treated and the Astley Ainslie fully opened.

Little else changed at the Corstorphine Home in the interwar period, but as the Infirmary found itself treating increasing numbers of older children, small numbers found their way to the Convalescent Home which opened a children’s ward. Those treated by the Royal Hospital For Sick Children were lucky to be sent to its seaside Home in Gullane.

During WW2, like many such institutions it became an Auxiliary Hospital for service personnel. Initially the City was told by the Government that 300 of its 1,000 hospital beds were to be reserved for the military, reduced to 200 later that year. As a public, but charitable, institution, the Home was brought into the fold of the new National Health Service in 1947, remaining attached to the Infirmary. By the 1950s however it was recognised as being hopelessly out of date, described as “resembling a poor law institution of the earlier part of the century“. In addition, its wooden floors were found to be suffering from rot: something had to be done.

Various options were considered and eventually the institution was closed, had its floors reconstructed in reinforced concrete and was thoroughly modernised and refitted by the Regional Health Board into a General Hospital. Corstorphine Hospital, as it would now be know, had 112 beds in large, open wards and its balconies were now enclosed by glass curtain walls. A new nurses’ house was built in the grounds, freeing up internal space, and when it reopened in 1962 it was now certified to provide nursing training. A big change was a move to pre-ordered catering, with patients selecting their food in advance from a menu, rather than the old “take it or leave it” system which often saw it left, to the detriment of patients health. By 1974 changing practices saw it detached from the Infirmary and grouped in with other small district hospitals in the Lothians to provide specialist geriatric convalescent and rehabilitation care.

A threat to the Hospital came in 1990 when it was proposed to close the hospital and potentially use the site for a new Sick Children’s Hospital. It weathered this storm but changing patterns for the elderly in the following decades, which was increasingly provided in patients homes or pushed into the private sector, saw it slowly run down. In 1999 a modern nursing home, Murraypark, was built in the grounds and in 200 the old nurses’ home was demolished and replaced with 30 residential care flats by a housing association. Closure for the hospital finally came in 2014, its founder’s message of “To the Glory of God, for the Welfare of the Poor” long forgotten, with Murraypark following in 2016. Plans to demolish the site and replace it with a “care village” came to nothing and in 2019 a plan by Michael Laird Architects was approved to renovate it into 32 flats, with extensions and additions in the grounds for 44 more flats.

Neighbouring Edinburgh Zoo objected to this on the grounds of it being adjacent to the enclosures of their prized pandas (which would later be moved, and later yet moved all the way back to China).
The added complexities of Covid and the economics of the construction industry has meant that nothing has yet come of the housing plans and the building has now lain abandoned for over a decade. That hasn’t stopped the Urbexers getting in though, and their videos show the interior has been thoroughly vandalised.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9W2JjCMJeE

If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site – including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget to find further stories to bring you – by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.

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These threads © 2017-2026, Andy Arthur.

NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

Scenes from #CorstorphineHill today.

across a dolerite pavement
to the tower
the woods lend sanctuary
to storm survivors
and the ruins of the morning

#Corstorphine #Edinburgh #Geology #Ruins

Happy Friday! Here's something funny to start your weekend! We're back in action on Monday if you need us.

#funny #fridayfunny #dadjokes #puns #cute #acute #chiropuns #corstorphine #chiropractic #laugh

Happy Friday! Here's something funny to start your weekend! We're back in action on Monday if you need us.

#funny #fridayfunny #dadjokes #puns #cute #acute #chiropuns #corstorphine #chiropractic #laugh

Thought of the week...

#thoughtoftheweek #mondaymotivation #quote #health #Chiropractic #Corstorphine #health #challenge #edinburgh #massageedinburgh #edinburghchiropractor

Happy Friday! Here's something funny to start your weekend! We're back in action tomorrow morning if you need us.

#funny #fridayfunny #dadjokes #puns #chiropuns #corstorphine #chiropractic #laugh #tgifriday #weekendappointments #weekendavailability #saturdayappointments

Edinburgh survey on Police Leadership (Please complete and boost).

https://edinburghinformatics.eu.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_9LhzQI2slXFtYEK

MSc Criminology student Grace Bell is looking for Edinburgh residents to complete a 15 minute survey on police leadership for a degree project.

Please help by completing at the link above!

#Edinburgh #Leith #Granton #Gorgie #Dalry #Sighthill #Corstorphine #Liberton #Craigmillar #Muirhouse #Silverknowes #Cramond #Sighthill #Colinton #Slateford #Oxgangs #Marchmont #Blackford #Morningside

Thought of the week...

#thoughtoftheweek #mondaymotivation #quote #health #Chiropractic #Corstorphine #health #challenge #edinburgh #massageedinburgh #edinburghchiropractor #animals