- Subscribe
- |
- E-edition
- |
- Jobs
- |
- Public Notices
- |
- Newsletter
- |
- Supplements
- |
- Advertise
- |
- Contact us
- |
- |
In case it’s important for you to know this, I am a woman, and I am a trans ally.
There’s an image of Banksy’s that I used as my screensaver for a while, and it came to mind again this week.
You’ll have heard the news then? One of two new green freeports for Scotland will be in the Cromarty Firth and Inverness area.
“The Kessock Bridge is closed due to a police incident”. How often have those words been shared recently?
I HATE the phrase ‘good riddance’, but I’ll not be sorry to see the back of 2022.
The last person I expected to see on press night at Eden Court’s panto was a man who had been murdered the night before.
I DIDN’T mean to watch the final of the World Cup on Sunday afternoon
I LIKE to wait till December is in double figures before starting to get ready for Christmas.
It’s that time of the year where we find out 2022’s official Words of the Year.
These days I can measure someone’s happiness by how long they have left on their fixed-rate mortgage.
That’s it – my garden recycling bin has been filled to bursting for the final time this year.
On Monday morning, Dolly Parton was trending on Twitter, and that cold pang of fear struck.
As a student I worked in restaurants – we all did, didn’t we?
It doesn’t matter how old your children are; as a parent you never really stop worrying about them.
In several of the coaching sessions I have conducted recently, the issue of imposter syndrome has arisen.
Grief runs to its own timetable in each of us, impacts us all differently, and going through it is a far-from linear process.
It’s the question on everyone’s lips; what do we really want from our elected representatives?
I’m writing this as we come out of an official period of mourning after the Queen’s funeral.
The world needs people who stand up for what they believe in.
Like me, you were probably watching the telly on Thursday for the news we knew must be coming but were collectively dreading, writes Nicky Marr.
