It gladdened this old heart to watch a quietly spoken but authoritative woman deliver some solid blows against some decidedly anti-democratic behaviour this week. That Lady Hale was sporting a rather splendid spider brooch only added sartorial shine to her forcefield. All hail Spiderwoman. As a woman of a certain age myself, it was bloody marvellous to see
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The Last Word blog comes straight from the heart of WORD UP.
In our monthly online offering, we aim to please, entertain, and be brutally honest in our musings on small biz, middle aged motherhood, and life. But we sometimes raise hackles and spark off debate, so feel free to join in, or fire back if you don’t like what you read.
Our latest wordy witterings are posted right here on the last Friday of every month.
The Blog
Two weeks on the Dalmatian coast did wonders for this old wordsmith’s suntan, but a long overdue holiday unexpectedly left me with a yawning gap in my life. This spiritual hole is not so much existential crisis, simply a severe case of ennui. That feels a bit wrong. Holidays are supposed to invigorate and energise, aren’t they? I’m
Loneliness comes with the territory when you’re a sole trader. Or at least, that’s the perceived small business wisdom. And yes, ploughing your own furrow can mean that working life is sometimes solitary and alienating. In fact, unless you are completely comfortable working on your ownio, you can go a bit bonkers without colleagues to shoot the
Hold your noses, folks, there’s a foul stench in the air. It reeks to high heaven, is turning my stomach and making me mad. And that’s because my pungency allegory extends way beyond pong. I’ve been clamping my nostrils tightly for a couple of years now, particularly when travelling by bus (public transport and two wheels being the favoured
Happiness, huh? Totally overrated if you ask me. Truth told, I’m a crabbit old cow. My natural state of grump has been embedded even more deeply lately by the omnipresence of the happiness industry. Even a cursory glance through certain social media platforms or a skim of the self-help section in your local bookshop confirms our apparently limitless search
Today was momentous. Because today is the day we didn’t leave Europe. Not only did we fail to depart, but our conscious uncoupling is yet further delayed after the PM’s latest defeat looks set to leave democracy clinging on in utter disharmony for the foreseeable. But for ordinary punters like me (who didn’t want to
Even now in the darkened depths of a Glasgow January, when the annual Scottish SAD syndrome is dragging us all down in its icy, gloomy grip, faint glimmers of a feel-good golden glow have suffused the spirit of this wee sole trader. The annual gloom-fest that is Blue Monday was brightened this week by a stunning blood moon,
Funny how it all comes around. Even if you wanted to dodge it, the past has a habit of creeping up on you and doing its time machine thing, taking you way back when. Some flashbacks have a golden tinge – sibling singalongs to the hit parade on Sunday bath night; the long, hot coming-of-age
