The name of this blog has been known to upset and offend – particularly those who have never heard of Trainspotting or Irvine Welsh.
Undoubtedly it’s shite being Scottish is a provocative name for a blog, but it has to be understood in context. It has only ever been my intention to amuse, entertain and encourage, never deliberately to upset or offend.
So if you feel your hackles rising, please do not jump to conclusions or rush to judgement. Read about the blog here and about why it is called it’s shite being Scottish here.
Otherwise, jump in anywhere and enjoy!
This site does not get very many visitors, but there are enough for me to believe that the effort of writing is worthwhile. Continue reading “The establishment, the cradle and the grave.”
Green Craig (unclassified), 620 ft, 189m
Continue reading “A very big wee hill”
One of the last duties my father felt necessary to perform in this life was to ensure I knew the tragic circumstances my mother had endured as a girl, before she and my father were married while she was still living at home as a student.
Continue reading “The wee small hours”
December 2018 was the first month since January 2017 during which I did not reach the summit of a new Munro, but I can already say with confidence, without checking any statistics, that 2018 was a good year. Continue reading “…. a look back at 2018”
After a few days of living in a hospital bed it becomes a bit like a tent.
Continue reading “Cancer was probably the best thing ever to happen to me”
The disconnection of nutrition from health that is perpetuated by modern health care systems seems to me utterly insane
Ever since the diagnosis, it has been impossible not to make sense of every twinge, minor pain or anomalous experience as possibly related to the disease. It is a continuous struggle; try as I might, until there is evidence supplied to the contrary, in the worst recesses of my imagination everything is always related to the cancer.
Continue reading “A false alarm”