A Bleak Day for Scotland
Well, I've been up all night at the house of friends and neighbours. I went home at 6am, as dawn nudged its way over the rooftops. I heard the first bird sing as I walked down the street. I knew that when I got home, my 20 year old son and my 17 year old daughter who voted for the first time, would wake to disappointment.
When I was a teenager, I raged inside against the Thatcherism of the Eighties, and it fired my passion for justice and change. In 1997 - the year my daughter was born - I thought that change had come. But of course it hadn't.
A few months ago I began to follow the debate about that word- The Referendum. And I realised what had to be done. And I just hoped that Scotland would have the courage to do it.
That first bird of the morning, on the rooftop of a quiet street in Dunblane knew something that I didn't.
I just still haven't worked out what it is yet...
When I was a teenager, I raged inside against the Thatcherism of the Eighties, and it fired my passion for justice and change. In 1997 - the year my daughter was born - I thought that change had come. But of course it hadn't.
A few months ago I began to follow the debate about that word- The Referendum. And I realised what had to be done. And I just hoped that Scotland would have the courage to do it.
That first bird of the morning, on the rooftop of a quiet street in Dunblane knew something that I didn't.
I just still haven't worked out what it is yet...
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Life Through A Window
Alex Nye writes about life at the creative rock-face, offering tips and remedies along the way. She writes about the books she loves, where she reads them, what they mean to her, and she writes about
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