Democracy and trans richts

I’m aye sweirt tae breinge in anent maiters that I dinna consíder mysel an expert in, but I need tae scrieve a bit aboot the dingin doun o Scotland’s Gender Recognition Reform bill by the UK government. For tae evite ony dout as tae the subject o the bill itsel: I’m for the reforms. A hunder per cent. Like maist fowk, and like wi ony bill, I mebbe deh ken …

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Frae the archives: Christmas buyin

I wis rakin aboot the British Newspaper Archive and fund a wheen columns frae the early-tae-mid 20t century anent Christmas shoppin. Thocht yese micht enjoy readin them. In the first airticle, frae the 25 Dezember 1947 Forfar Dispatch, we hear aboot Mary Ann and the scriever gaun their Christmas shoppin. Gaun by the notices she dictates tae gae alang wi her praisents, this Mary Ann soonds like quite the character. …

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Frae the editor’s dask

A wheen thochts anent sindry maiters… Crackin wi a nurse in Scots; In praise o ilkaday Scots wirds; What aboot ‘thir’?; Scots and Gaelic leids consultation.

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Animal Farm in Scots: Chapters II and III

Three nichts efter, auld Major dee’d peacefu in his sleep. His bouk wis buirit at the fit o the orchart.

This wis early in the Mairch. Ower the neist three month the’ war a quate steer aboot the place. Major’s discoorse haed gien the mair lang-heidit craiturs on the ferm a hale new ootleuk on life. They didna ken whan the Rebellion spaed by Major wad tak place — they haed nae reason tae jalouse it wad be ithin their ain lifetime — but they haed nae douts it wis their duty tae prepare for it. The pigs teuk on the darg o learin and guidin the ithers, as they war thocht on as bein the maist heidy o the bease. Maist weel-forrit amang the pigs wis twa young boars caa’d Snawba and Napoleon, that Mr Cameron wis breedin up for sale.

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Animal Farm in Scots: Chapter I

Mr Cameron, o the Kirklands Ferm, haed sneckit the hen-hooses for the nicht, but wis ower fou wi drink tae mind and steek the pop-holes. Wi the ring o licht frae his lantren jowin frae side tae side, he hytert athort the yaird, kickit aff his buits at the back door, haed ae last swallie frae the beer bowie ben the scullery, and stoitert up til his bed, whaur Mrs Cameron wis aaready snorin awa.

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