“I smile when I hear people talk about the risks of independence for Scotland.
I laugh when I hear people suggest Scotland is too wee, too poor and too stupid to be independent.
Compared with the risk I took when I was was determined to earn a living as a young writer the risks that face Scotland are negligible”
AWAY back in the mists of time, or at least the late seventies I found myself in a situation where I was to make a choice that was to completely change the rest of my life.
After leaving school I found myself taking on a number of jobs – but I wasn’t entirely happy in any of them. In my mid-twenties, with a wife and young child, I went off to work for the Scottish Youth Hostels Association and absolutely loved it. We ran the hostels and I started doing a little bit of writing in my spare time. I did a Mountain Leader Training gig and got some work teaching climbing and hillwalking and cross country ski-ing in winter.
A number of years later, now with two young sons, my wife and I sat down to have a think about our future. She was doing some part-time nursing.
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