Jack MacRoary's Guide to the General Election:
Episode Eight
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: One mild one only.
Description: A night is a long time in politics.
_____________________________________________________________________
Well. By now everyone knows what happened so I won’t waste a lot of time telling you. What I shall do is tell you the impact the Election had on the MacRoary household.
On election day Nanny Alzheimer and the people from the care home went to cast their votes in the bus driven by Brian’s dad and though I was at school, John had gone to help ‘marshal’ the forces with Mum and he told me what happened. Remember Micro the Pig at the Independence Referendum? And how we thought that couldn’t be repeated. Well, here’s a headline you never got. Nanny Alzheimer runs amok in the polling station.
They have these rules about what you can and can’t do in polling stations and what you can’t do is shout out, ‘I will vote SNP. SNP forever.’ Then she shouted ‘my son-in-law died for Independence, vote SNP’ and they turfed her out. Now, she may have dementia, but she made sure she’d put her ballot paper in the box before she shouted. I think she was having a Braveheart moment. I wish I had seen that. Dad said she came out (escorted) with the biggest smile on her face and it was well worth the hassle taking all the old folk to the polling station. We all knew that every vote would count, no matter what they all tell you with their ‘vote SNP get Tory, Vote Labour get Labour’ scare tactics. It wouldn’t matter how Scots voted on Thursday. England gave us a Conservative government and they needn’t start blaming us. That’s why we wanted Independence. So we could vote for a party and get that party to govern us. Not get the opposite of what we voted for just because that’s what England wants. Surely everyone can see clearly now that Scotland and England are NOT THE SAME PLACE. Not the same country. Nothing against England but Scotland is not part of England and never will be. The Kingdom has never really been United. But Scotland is getting pretty United now.
I do feel sorry for the ones in England who didn’t vote Conservative, but maybe they’ll know how we all felt on September 19th now. Like we did, they need to pick themselves up. England is Blue and Scotland is Yellow at the moment. Yellow and Black. Mhairi Black.
Anyway, on the night of the election I went to bed as usual and mum promised to wake me up when it was time for Mhairi Black’s result to be announced, which was a couple of hours before our own result for The Doctor. She said I needed to get some sleep because I had to go to school on Friday morning no matter what.
‘If we are building a new Scotland,’ she said, ‘you’ve got to be properly educated.’
‘But I’m going to be a potato farmer, mum,’ I said.
‘Every one of us needs to make the most of our potential,’ she said. ‘So school it is for you. We can party at the weekend.’
She was confident that it would all go well, but at the time I thought she was sending me to bed because she couldn’t bear to have to face another night like September 18th together.
I can forgive her of course because she’s my mum, but in all the excitement, she forgot to wake me up and I missed it! The big moment. When Mhairi Black beat Douglas Alexander. And told him not to give up on his dream! But I’ve seen it on YouTube lots since then.
Of course you all know now that Mhairi Black beat Douglas Alexander good and proper and as dad said, ‘That was the start of the rout.’ Mum woke me up when we were 30 – nil up because as she said ‘we are making history’ and she obviously decided that making history was more important than studying history this week.
But I still went to school on Friday. We had class exams for history. Which is not my best subject, and I’m not going to do it for National 5’s next year, but I did try my best anyway. I’m going to do Modern Studies. It’s what my Uncle Tam would have wanted and it’s what I want too now.
But it was hard to concentrate and stay awake in the exam knowing what had just happened and thinking about how Scotland has sent a real message to the rest of the United Kingdom. Alex Salmond said ‘the Scottish lion roared’. And I told Brian the Brain that and he said he’d heard it too. And we went round school and every time we met someone else who was SNP (which is just about everyone now) we roared at each other. And Brian even roared at the beginning of the exam and nearly got put out – especially because everyone laughed when he did it. And Mr Marker who was minding us for the exam looked stern but I saw him go and quietly roar back at Brian and then he didn’t put him out but let him stay to do his exam – which he did with help from his minder lady. Brian wants to do history next year but I think he might be better doing Modern Studies like me.
I am so glad that Mhairi Black won. But I’m a bit worried now. Because she is still a student and has to finish her exams and I don’t know how she’ll do it now she has a job and has to go the Wastemonster with all the others. Of course you know that we got 56 SNP MP’s elected and only one apiece from each of the other parties. You know that. You were up there cheering too, weren’t you?
Well, Mhairi Black is going to have to get new clothes for being an MP and find a place to live and do her exams, and how is she going to manage it all? I’m sure The Doctor Eilidh Whiteford and all the others will make sure she’s right because it’s going to be a huge change and even if it’s really exciting it will be quite daunting too. I didn’t know what I could do to help so I wrote a letter to her and this is what I said:
Dear Mhairi Black,
I am so glad you won. I hope you will be able to do your exams and it doesn’t interfere too much with being the youngest MP in Westminster. I hope you find a good place to stay in London and don’t miss Glasgow too much during the week when you have to be down doing your job. They said that you are all going on the plane together. Will you say hello to The Doctor (Eilidh Whiteford) and Alex Salmond for me because I am busy with exams at school too and I don’t really have time to write my episode for McStorytellers and write them letters as well. But I wanted to write you a letter.
You don’t know who I am, but I am your biggest fan. I am only 14 and I expect that being 20 you will just think I’m really young, but you are really young compared to most of the other MP’s so I hope you think that age doesn’t really matter. Because Mhairi Black, I want to tell you that I really love you. I know you will be too busy representing your constituents to be bothered with a wee boy from Tattybogle as a boyfriend, but I just wanted you to know how I feel. Mum says a confident Scottish nation should do that more often. So I’m doing it now. I hope you don’t mind finding out how I feel.
You have given my whole family hope. My mum was so desperate when my Uncle Tam killed himself after the Independence Referendum and my Dad just gave up all hope. He didn’t have fear because my dad isn’t afraid of anything. But he didn’t have hope either. And now, thanks to you and Nicola Sturgeon and all the others, he has hope again. My dad is a farmer and we need farmers to have hope because otherwise how will we feed our country?
I have to go now, but I just wanted to wish you all the best of luck and if you ever come to Tattybogle it would be great to meet you. And as soon as I am 16 I will join the SNP myself and hopefully I might get to talk to you at a conference or something? I will always love you for the hope you have given my family and I just wanted you to know that. Sorry if it sounds soppy but I’m so happy that you got in that I wanted to tell you.
Lots of love from
Jack
I didn’t let anyone in the family read it and I nicked out of school at break time to post it and used the money mum gave me to buy a treat - which would have been a big KitKat not a Mars Bar, because KitKat’s are Fairtrade and Mars Bars aren’t and I only buy Fairtrade chocolate now. I didn’t really know where to send the letter to so I just addressed it to Mhairi Black, MP, Westminster. And the woman in the post office gave me a very funny look when she took it from me. She said, ‘I remember when you used to come in here posting letters to Santa.’ I don’t know what that’s got to do with anything.
I don’t really expect a response but I hope she understands what I’m trying to say. Maybe she will wait for me to grow up a bit… but I’m always going to be a farmer, even if I am politically aware and active. I’m never going to work in Westminster or even Holyrood. Potatoes are the life for me. And as they always say, it takes all sorts to make a world and without the Mhairi Blacks of this world the farmers like me would get a much worse deal. But without potato farmers no one would get chips for tea!
Dad has now got enough hope back that he has been doing some post-election analysis! He says that even though everyone now is moaning about another 5 years of David Cameron and the Tories, he thinks that now we have a strong voice we’ll be like a swarm of cleggs (not Nick, the ones like midgies) and if we never give them a minute’s peace, soon enough things will have to change. I hope so.
Mum and Dad both looked so happy on Friday morning, even though they had no sleep. Probably happier than I’ve ever seen them. Before Uncle Tam died they used to argue quite a lot. Then after Uncle Tam died they stopped arguing but they were both sad, in their own ways. And on Friday morning, they were kissing each other and hugging each other and I wasn’t even embarrassed by that because I was just so happy that we have got our hope back. I know it’s not Independence but like dad said, ‘We’ve got some pride again.’ And like Mum said, ‘Now we can start the rebuild.’ And I think dad was also happy because Mum did a lot of work in the election and she’s still committed to ‘the cause’ but she’s not going to the Wastemonster and she’ll be at home to make us chips and wash our socks and do all the other things that you never notice mums do until they go out on the campaign trail.
Everyone in Tattybogle and DrumTumshie seems to have a smile on their face these days. Except perhaps some of the people who work in the care home. They’ve been run ragged and dad is a bit worried Nanny Alzheimer is going to get expelled! Because on the night of the election Nanny Alzheimer was so over the moon that she kept ringing Dad during the night just about every time SNP won another seat. ‘Over the moon, son,’ she said. ‘Over the moon.’ She rang at three and four and five and six… and then the care staff said she had to go to bed and catch up on some sleep. She’s not really supposed to use the phone all the time, but they couldn’t stop her. And they told my dad later that Nanny Alzheimer had been in the dayroom all night (which isn’t allowed – because it’s a day room) and no one could get her out. ‘It’s my democratic right,’ she kept saying and she made so much noise that by the time Jim Murphy was out on his arse she had woken everyone else up and they all came into the dayroom and watched the momentous happenings.
We were all up to watch the ‘taxi for Mr Murphy’ moment. And like John said – revenge is sweet. I think it’s not as sweet as hitting him with an egg, but I think a bit of public humiliation was more than due to him after all that has happened in the last year. I know it’s not nice to enjoy someone else’s misfortune, but if you remember about Uncle Tam you’ll understand why to the MacRoary family Jim Murphy is someone we don’t want to have to see being smug and patronising on our televisions all the time. But he won’t resign – unlike Nick Clegg and Nigel Farage and Ed Miliband – that’s a great three for the price of one offer isn’t it? – and so I suppose we’ll have to put up with him in Holyrood sometime soon – if anyone votes for him, which probably some people might. But even that prospect couldn’t dampen our joy when we watched him have to admit that he’d lost.
And at about six o’clock in the morning, when the final result came in, and we were sitting down to a family breakfast a bit earlier than usual, Mum said, ‘If only Tam could have seen this day.’ And then she cried. But it was different tears from the ones in September. It’s what my English teacher would call ‘poignant’ and there was happy all mixed with sad. And my dad got up from his seat and stopped reading the Farmers Weekly, which he usually does when we all have breakfast together, and he put his arms round my mum and held her for a long, long time. And when he let her go, they were both smiling and happy like I haven’t seen for the longest time. Yes, sir, it was quite a night. And quite a day. The sun rose, shining on Tattybogle.
So I wanted to say thank you to all of the people who voted for me. I’m too young to vote, but anyone who voted SNP was voting for me and for my future so I’m really grateful. And you should all know that you all helped to make my mum happy again. Nothing will ever take away the pain of Uncle Tam dying, but we are starting to make small steps now towards a new future.
I’ve been thinking about Uncle Tam and what happened and now I think it has taught me something important. Uncle Tam killed himself because he had no hope. And if he had just waited a bit he would have got some hope back, like my dad has, so really, it was such a waste for him to kill himself and I wish he hadn’t.
And I’ve learned that however dark days might seem, there is always a chance that they will get brighter. No one could have expected the 8th of May 2015 on the 19th of September 2014, but Alex Salmond was truly right when he said ‘the dream shall never die’ and my mum was right to go out there and fight for what she believed in to convince other people to vote to make our voice heard more strongly. We all made a sacrifice, but it was really worth it.
I am just glad that my dad, even though he lost his hope, didn’t kill himself like Uncle Tam. I told him that (because, as I told you, I’m trying to do what mum says and tell people what I feel). Mum says if Uncle Tam had talked to people more and we had listened to him and his despair we might have been able to convince him not to kill himself and then he would still be alive to enjoy this big moment in history. He would have loved it, Uncle Tam. Anyway, I told my dad that I was glad he didn’t kill himself because he lost his hope and he said, ‘We’ve had dark days, son, but you have to accept all the seasons of life when you’re a farmer. And anyway, I’ve got you to live for.’
And he gave me a hug and even kissed me, and I didn’t even mind. Sometimes dads can do that. It’s rare enough, I know, but just sometimes it’s what is the best thing to do. Because we do love each other. And I know that farmers quite often commit suicide because they can’t see a future but I hope that will all change now, since everything else is changing in Scotland. Now the MacRoarys have some hope again. It won’t be plain sailing of course because in reality nothing ever is. But we’ve restored some pride and we have some hope again.
Even though this is Episode 8, it isn’t really the end, only the beginning of a whole new story. And next week I’ll be back again with a ‘double-header’ to end this serial. Then I have to get on with my school work and learn how to be a Young Farmer. And soon enough I’ll be old enough to go tatty rogueing and vote and be a real farmer. But for now
I just want to end by telling you all: See me, I’m SNP! And I love Mhairi Black.
Swearwords: One mild one only.
Description: A night is a long time in politics.
_____________________________________________________________________
Well. By now everyone knows what happened so I won’t waste a lot of time telling you. What I shall do is tell you the impact the Election had on the MacRoary household.
On election day Nanny Alzheimer and the people from the care home went to cast their votes in the bus driven by Brian’s dad and though I was at school, John had gone to help ‘marshal’ the forces with Mum and he told me what happened. Remember Micro the Pig at the Independence Referendum? And how we thought that couldn’t be repeated. Well, here’s a headline you never got. Nanny Alzheimer runs amok in the polling station.
They have these rules about what you can and can’t do in polling stations and what you can’t do is shout out, ‘I will vote SNP. SNP forever.’ Then she shouted ‘my son-in-law died for Independence, vote SNP’ and they turfed her out. Now, she may have dementia, but she made sure she’d put her ballot paper in the box before she shouted. I think she was having a Braveheart moment. I wish I had seen that. Dad said she came out (escorted) with the biggest smile on her face and it was well worth the hassle taking all the old folk to the polling station. We all knew that every vote would count, no matter what they all tell you with their ‘vote SNP get Tory, Vote Labour get Labour’ scare tactics. It wouldn’t matter how Scots voted on Thursday. England gave us a Conservative government and they needn’t start blaming us. That’s why we wanted Independence. So we could vote for a party and get that party to govern us. Not get the opposite of what we voted for just because that’s what England wants. Surely everyone can see clearly now that Scotland and England are NOT THE SAME PLACE. Not the same country. Nothing against England but Scotland is not part of England and never will be. The Kingdom has never really been United. But Scotland is getting pretty United now.
I do feel sorry for the ones in England who didn’t vote Conservative, but maybe they’ll know how we all felt on September 19th now. Like we did, they need to pick themselves up. England is Blue and Scotland is Yellow at the moment. Yellow and Black. Mhairi Black.
Anyway, on the night of the election I went to bed as usual and mum promised to wake me up when it was time for Mhairi Black’s result to be announced, which was a couple of hours before our own result for The Doctor. She said I needed to get some sleep because I had to go to school on Friday morning no matter what.
‘If we are building a new Scotland,’ she said, ‘you’ve got to be properly educated.’
‘But I’m going to be a potato farmer, mum,’ I said.
‘Every one of us needs to make the most of our potential,’ she said. ‘So school it is for you. We can party at the weekend.’
She was confident that it would all go well, but at the time I thought she was sending me to bed because she couldn’t bear to have to face another night like September 18th together.
I can forgive her of course because she’s my mum, but in all the excitement, she forgot to wake me up and I missed it! The big moment. When Mhairi Black beat Douglas Alexander. And told him not to give up on his dream! But I’ve seen it on YouTube lots since then.
Of course you all know now that Mhairi Black beat Douglas Alexander good and proper and as dad said, ‘That was the start of the rout.’ Mum woke me up when we were 30 – nil up because as she said ‘we are making history’ and she obviously decided that making history was more important than studying history this week.
But I still went to school on Friday. We had class exams for history. Which is not my best subject, and I’m not going to do it for National 5’s next year, but I did try my best anyway. I’m going to do Modern Studies. It’s what my Uncle Tam would have wanted and it’s what I want too now.
But it was hard to concentrate and stay awake in the exam knowing what had just happened and thinking about how Scotland has sent a real message to the rest of the United Kingdom. Alex Salmond said ‘the Scottish lion roared’. And I told Brian the Brain that and he said he’d heard it too. And we went round school and every time we met someone else who was SNP (which is just about everyone now) we roared at each other. And Brian even roared at the beginning of the exam and nearly got put out – especially because everyone laughed when he did it. And Mr Marker who was minding us for the exam looked stern but I saw him go and quietly roar back at Brian and then he didn’t put him out but let him stay to do his exam – which he did with help from his minder lady. Brian wants to do history next year but I think he might be better doing Modern Studies like me.
I am so glad that Mhairi Black won. But I’m a bit worried now. Because she is still a student and has to finish her exams and I don’t know how she’ll do it now she has a job and has to go the Wastemonster with all the others. Of course you know that we got 56 SNP MP’s elected and only one apiece from each of the other parties. You know that. You were up there cheering too, weren’t you?
Well, Mhairi Black is going to have to get new clothes for being an MP and find a place to live and do her exams, and how is she going to manage it all? I’m sure The Doctor Eilidh Whiteford and all the others will make sure she’s right because it’s going to be a huge change and even if it’s really exciting it will be quite daunting too. I didn’t know what I could do to help so I wrote a letter to her and this is what I said:
Dear Mhairi Black,
I am so glad you won. I hope you will be able to do your exams and it doesn’t interfere too much with being the youngest MP in Westminster. I hope you find a good place to stay in London and don’t miss Glasgow too much during the week when you have to be down doing your job. They said that you are all going on the plane together. Will you say hello to The Doctor (Eilidh Whiteford) and Alex Salmond for me because I am busy with exams at school too and I don’t really have time to write my episode for McStorytellers and write them letters as well. But I wanted to write you a letter.
You don’t know who I am, but I am your biggest fan. I am only 14 and I expect that being 20 you will just think I’m really young, but you are really young compared to most of the other MP’s so I hope you think that age doesn’t really matter. Because Mhairi Black, I want to tell you that I really love you. I know you will be too busy representing your constituents to be bothered with a wee boy from Tattybogle as a boyfriend, but I just wanted you to know how I feel. Mum says a confident Scottish nation should do that more often. So I’m doing it now. I hope you don’t mind finding out how I feel.
You have given my whole family hope. My mum was so desperate when my Uncle Tam killed himself after the Independence Referendum and my Dad just gave up all hope. He didn’t have fear because my dad isn’t afraid of anything. But he didn’t have hope either. And now, thanks to you and Nicola Sturgeon and all the others, he has hope again. My dad is a farmer and we need farmers to have hope because otherwise how will we feed our country?
I have to go now, but I just wanted to wish you all the best of luck and if you ever come to Tattybogle it would be great to meet you. And as soon as I am 16 I will join the SNP myself and hopefully I might get to talk to you at a conference or something? I will always love you for the hope you have given my family and I just wanted you to know that. Sorry if it sounds soppy but I’m so happy that you got in that I wanted to tell you.
Lots of love from
Jack
I didn’t let anyone in the family read it and I nicked out of school at break time to post it and used the money mum gave me to buy a treat - which would have been a big KitKat not a Mars Bar, because KitKat’s are Fairtrade and Mars Bars aren’t and I only buy Fairtrade chocolate now. I didn’t really know where to send the letter to so I just addressed it to Mhairi Black, MP, Westminster. And the woman in the post office gave me a very funny look when she took it from me. She said, ‘I remember when you used to come in here posting letters to Santa.’ I don’t know what that’s got to do with anything.
I don’t really expect a response but I hope she understands what I’m trying to say. Maybe she will wait for me to grow up a bit… but I’m always going to be a farmer, even if I am politically aware and active. I’m never going to work in Westminster or even Holyrood. Potatoes are the life for me. And as they always say, it takes all sorts to make a world and without the Mhairi Blacks of this world the farmers like me would get a much worse deal. But without potato farmers no one would get chips for tea!
Dad has now got enough hope back that he has been doing some post-election analysis! He says that even though everyone now is moaning about another 5 years of David Cameron and the Tories, he thinks that now we have a strong voice we’ll be like a swarm of cleggs (not Nick, the ones like midgies) and if we never give them a minute’s peace, soon enough things will have to change. I hope so.
Mum and Dad both looked so happy on Friday morning, even though they had no sleep. Probably happier than I’ve ever seen them. Before Uncle Tam died they used to argue quite a lot. Then after Uncle Tam died they stopped arguing but they were both sad, in their own ways. And on Friday morning, they were kissing each other and hugging each other and I wasn’t even embarrassed by that because I was just so happy that we have got our hope back. I know it’s not Independence but like dad said, ‘We’ve got some pride again.’ And like Mum said, ‘Now we can start the rebuild.’ And I think dad was also happy because Mum did a lot of work in the election and she’s still committed to ‘the cause’ but she’s not going to the Wastemonster and she’ll be at home to make us chips and wash our socks and do all the other things that you never notice mums do until they go out on the campaign trail.
Everyone in Tattybogle and DrumTumshie seems to have a smile on their face these days. Except perhaps some of the people who work in the care home. They’ve been run ragged and dad is a bit worried Nanny Alzheimer is going to get expelled! Because on the night of the election Nanny Alzheimer was so over the moon that she kept ringing Dad during the night just about every time SNP won another seat. ‘Over the moon, son,’ she said. ‘Over the moon.’ She rang at three and four and five and six… and then the care staff said she had to go to bed and catch up on some sleep. She’s not really supposed to use the phone all the time, but they couldn’t stop her. And they told my dad later that Nanny Alzheimer had been in the dayroom all night (which isn’t allowed – because it’s a day room) and no one could get her out. ‘It’s my democratic right,’ she kept saying and she made so much noise that by the time Jim Murphy was out on his arse she had woken everyone else up and they all came into the dayroom and watched the momentous happenings.
We were all up to watch the ‘taxi for Mr Murphy’ moment. And like John said – revenge is sweet. I think it’s not as sweet as hitting him with an egg, but I think a bit of public humiliation was more than due to him after all that has happened in the last year. I know it’s not nice to enjoy someone else’s misfortune, but if you remember about Uncle Tam you’ll understand why to the MacRoary family Jim Murphy is someone we don’t want to have to see being smug and patronising on our televisions all the time. But he won’t resign – unlike Nick Clegg and Nigel Farage and Ed Miliband – that’s a great three for the price of one offer isn’t it? – and so I suppose we’ll have to put up with him in Holyrood sometime soon – if anyone votes for him, which probably some people might. But even that prospect couldn’t dampen our joy when we watched him have to admit that he’d lost.
And at about six o’clock in the morning, when the final result came in, and we were sitting down to a family breakfast a bit earlier than usual, Mum said, ‘If only Tam could have seen this day.’ And then she cried. But it was different tears from the ones in September. It’s what my English teacher would call ‘poignant’ and there was happy all mixed with sad. And my dad got up from his seat and stopped reading the Farmers Weekly, which he usually does when we all have breakfast together, and he put his arms round my mum and held her for a long, long time. And when he let her go, they were both smiling and happy like I haven’t seen for the longest time. Yes, sir, it was quite a night. And quite a day. The sun rose, shining on Tattybogle.
So I wanted to say thank you to all of the people who voted for me. I’m too young to vote, but anyone who voted SNP was voting for me and for my future so I’m really grateful. And you should all know that you all helped to make my mum happy again. Nothing will ever take away the pain of Uncle Tam dying, but we are starting to make small steps now towards a new future.
I’ve been thinking about Uncle Tam and what happened and now I think it has taught me something important. Uncle Tam killed himself because he had no hope. And if he had just waited a bit he would have got some hope back, like my dad has, so really, it was such a waste for him to kill himself and I wish he hadn’t.
And I’ve learned that however dark days might seem, there is always a chance that they will get brighter. No one could have expected the 8th of May 2015 on the 19th of September 2014, but Alex Salmond was truly right when he said ‘the dream shall never die’ and my mum was right to go out there and fight for what she believed in to convince other people to vote to make our voice heard more strongly. We all made a sacrifice, but it was really worth it.
I am just glad that my dad, even though he lost his hope, didn’t kill himself like Uncle Tam. I told him that (because, as I told you, I’m trying to do what mum says and tell people what I feel). Mum says if Uncle Tam had talked to people more and we had listened to him and his despair we might have been able to convince him not to kill himself and then he would still be alive to enjoy this big moment in history. He would have loved it, Uncle Tam. Anyway, I told my dad that I was glad he didn’t kill himself because he lost his hope and he said, ‘We’ve had dark days, son, but you have to accept all the seasons of life when you’re a farmer. And anyway, I’ve got you to live for.’
And he gave me a hug and even kissed me, and I didn’t even mind. Sometimes dads can do that. It’s rare enough, I know, but just sometimes it’s what is the best thing to do. Because we do love each other. And I know that farmers quite often commit suicide because they can’t see a future but I hope that will all change now, since everything else is changing in Scotland. Now the MacRoarys have some hope again. It won’t be plain sailing of course because in reality nothing ever is. But we’ve restored some pride and we have some hope again.
Even though this is Episode 8, it isn’t really the end, only the beginning of a whole new story. And next week I’ll be back again with a ‘double-header’ to end this serial. Then I have to get on with my school work and learn how to be a Young Farmer. And soon enough I’ll be old enough to go tatty rogueing and vote and be a real farmer. But for now
I just want to end by telling you all: See me, I’m SNP! And I love Mhairi Black.
About the Author
Jack MacRoary, also known locally as the Bard of DrumTumshie, comes from the small farming community of Tattybogle, which he has singlehandedly put ‘on the map’ through his fame. After bursting onto the literary cultural scene in August 2012 when he appeared at the inaugural Edinburgh eBook Festival, Jack now attends DrumTumshie Academy. His current ebooks are Tales from Tattybogle (available from Amazon here and Kobo here) and More Tales from Tattybogle (available from Amazon here and Kobo here). He is also the first McStorytellers McSerial writer.
Jack lives on a farm with his dad, mum, older brother John and a range of animals and pets, including Dug (the cat), Bisum (the dog) and Micro (the pig). His ebooks give an insight into rural life, as well as providing an insightful commentary on Scots culture.
Follow Jack on Facebook here.
Jack lives on a farm with his dad, mum, older brother John and a range of animals and pets, including Dug (the cat), Bisum (the dog) and Micro (the pig). His ebooks give an insight into rural life, as well as providing an insightful commentary on Scots culture.
Follow Jack on Facebook here.