So ... I miss my old neighbours. The way we lived here was we never locked the door. Now when I go to church, my son takes me to church in the mid-day service, and I’ve got my key in my pocket and it grieves me to think that here I am, just in the church a mile away, with my door key in my pocket. The neighbours we used to have, even if I wasn’t in if my neighbour wanted baking soda or whatever she would come to my cupboard herself and get it. That’s the way we lived. My husband, my late husband, had a tractor and the man next door had a tractor and if they were taking home the peats and one of them got bogged, the other would pull them out. But things have changed. That’s one thing about them, they don’t try to overrule us or change our way of life. But, well, we’ve got to accept that the world is changing rapidly and not for the best. Now if I’m alive at the next voting ... When is it going to be anyway?

  • Marion MacLeod (Mor Bhrù)
Friday 19th February 2010