Who knew that death cults were on Police Scotland’s radar? Certainly not the family and friends who went to drink and be merry on Loch Leven, only to find their Sunday night campsite the focus of emergency service searchlights and helicopter swoops.
Once women get beyond a certain age (which begins with a five and ends with a zero), they are constantly warned that unless they slather their faces in stuff on a regular basis their skin will begin to crack and eventually disintegrate. This has prompted me to compile one of my handy cut-out-and-keep guides. Welcome to skincare routines through the decades:
Being the target of cybernat attacks is par for the course for any Unionist who dares to defend Great Britain too conspicuously.
I was back in Glen Doll at the weekend, walking with a Scots Magazine group, and found it looking like winter but feeling like spring, that typical Highland brew that materialises whenever the frontiers of these two seasons rub up against each other. But, for me, the trouble with travelling to Glen Doll is having to drive through Glen Clova without stopping. It’s a bit like having to drive through Skye simply to catch the ferry to Harris, except Glen Clova has a place in my heart of hearts claimed by no other landscape.
Something about the euphoria that greeted Scotland’s new flavour-of-the-month status in British tourism made me shudder.
A kestrel slips from the crown of an ageing ash tree that appears to have rooted in a singularly steep scree slope halfway up the hill. It side-slips on the air, leading with the open primary feathers of its left wing and eases up to a hovering standstill above a small clearing of grassy hillside amid crowding whin bushes.
I have been reading the runes in some of the quieter backwaters where agriculture and nature cohabit (and sometimes annoy each other the way neighbours sometimes do). And having read and thought about what I’d read, a troubling question began to take shape in my mind: how long will it be before the British Government starts culling badgers in Scotland as part of what passes for its strategy to control bovine TB in England?
Abandoned cars, abandoned cinemas but pandemonium in the shops — another weird snow day in Dunfermline
The ringing of metal on concrete met the slush of tyres on dirty-grey roads as west Fifers tried to free themselves from the snow and ice on Friday.
If you are minded to select an official body to champion the cause of trees at a world-famous beauty spot, I would venture to suggest that Perth and Kinross Council would not be high in the selection process (think Perth Academy playing fields and Scots pine).
The students across the UK who are demanding compensation for missed lessons when their lecturers go on strike tomorrow are not necessarily against the proposed industrial action.