Waiting to board our flight in Washington and there are 3 Scotland fans in kilts walking past. An American lady says" I love your skirts"
"They're nae skirts lassie they're kilts , We're Scots not Trannies" I genuinely Lol #tartanarmy#fifaworldcup@jk_rowling
@opsylojay1 Due to the severity of the injuries he was given a prison sentence- my dad was heartbroken and visited him regularly, but he came out a different man, bitter and angry. His brother continued to live his life …despite ruining 2 lives forever - the victims and my brothers friend.
@opsylojay1 2 He was badly advised that a first offense would not result in prison sentence. All his friends told him not to do it, but he was adamant that he did it for his brother. My late dad did everything he could to convince him to tell the truth, and even went to court as support
Come on @BoothsCountry St Anne’s store - over 20 people in the queue and only 2 tills open ! It’s obviously going to be a busy Sunday, you need self service or more staff!
I was homeless for six months in 2011. I slept in my car. I used to park behind a small church because it was dark and quiet. I thought nobody knew I was there. Every morning, I’d wake up, drive to a gas station to wash my face, and go to work (yes, I had a job, just couldn't afford rent). One night, it was freezing. 10 degrees. My car wouldn't start to run the heater. I was shivering so hard my teeth hurt. I saw the back door of the church open. A janitor came out to dump the trash. He saw my car. He saw me huddled in the front seat. He didn't call the cops. He didn't come over and tap on the window. He just walked back to the door, unlocked it, and propped it open with a small rock. Then he turned on the hallway light and left. I waited ten minutes. Then I ran inside. It was warm. There was a couch in the lobby. There was a bathroom with hot water. I slept there every night for the rest of the winter. Every night, the rock was there. I never met the janitor. I never thanked him. I’m back on my feet now. I have a house. I have a bed. But every year on the first snow, I donate a check to that church. I write "For the heating bill" in the memo line. Sometimes the loudest way to love your neighbor is to say nothing at all.
Anonymous
@ServeOnlyGod@McVities The problem is that the cost to make these has increased massively- ingredients, utilities wages, etc. Plusthe retailer doesn’t want to charge more so what do they both do - they can’t lose money so the answer is to reduce content - or we pay more
@JDWFashion what a complete and utter disaster your service is. You are Quick to take my money but cant deliver and now out of stock ! #badservice#jdwilliams complete waste of an afternoon trying to do your job!
My name’s Daniel, I’m 45, and two weeks ago I learned something about my mother that I’m still ashamed I didn’t see sooner.
She’s 80, lives alone in the little tan house she’s been in for half a century. The one with the peeling shutters and the mailbox she still refuses to replace because “it works just fine.”
Last Wednesday, she called and said:
“Danny… I need help with my grocery list. Can you come? I think I’m forgetting things.”
My first instinct?
Annoyance.
I had deadlines.
Kids’ activities.
Bills on my desk.
A hundred things pulling me in every direction.
So I said, “Just tell me what you want. I’ll order it all online.”
But she was quiet for a long moment before whispering:
“I’d rather you come.”
So I did.
When I walked into her kitchen, three grocery bags were already sitting neatly on the counter.
“Mom… you already shopped,” I said, confused.
She waved her hand. “Those are just basics. I still need a few things.”
She opened her notebook — the same spiral-bound one she’s used for years — and handed it to me.
The list said:
• grapes
• paper towels
• coffee creamer
• company
And suddenly everything inside me went still.
She looked embarrassed, like a kid caught doing something wrong.
“I just… didn’t know how else to ask you to come,” she whispered. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
That sentence —
those ten quiet words —
hit harder than anything I’ve felt in years.
My mom, the woman who worked two jobs and still made every school concert…
the woman who saved every drawing I ever made…
the woman who put herself last for decades…
felt she had to pretend she needed groceries
just to feel worthy of a visit from her own son.
I hugged her so tightly she laughed and said, “Oh goodness, you’ll break me.”
We never went to the store.
Instead, we sat at the tiny kitchen table covered in little sunflower placemats she’s had since the ’90s.
We talked about the neighbor’s new dog.
About her tomato plant that refuses to grow.
About my dad, and how she still forgets he’s not coming through the door sometimes.
I stayed longer than I planned.
Drank terrible instant coffee.
Listened — really listened — the way she used to listen to me.
Before I left, she walked me to the door and held my hand for a moment longer than usual.
“You made my week, sweetheart,” she said softly.
Driving home, I couldn’t shake one thought:
How many times did she wait by the window, hoping my car would turn into the driveway?
How many afternoons did she tell herself,
“He’ll come when he has time,”
while the house echoed with loneliness I didn’t notice?
I realized that somewhere along the road of adulthood —
work, kids, obligations, noise —
I started treating her like an errand.
Someone to “fit in” when life allowed it.
But to her?
I was never an errand.
I was her world.
And all she wanted
was an hour with her son
in the home where she raised him.
💛 THE LESSON
Your parents won’t always tell you they’re lonely.
They won’t always say they miss you.
They won’t always ask directly.
Sometimes they’ll hide it behind a grocery list.
Behind a broken lamp.
Behind a request that doesn’t really need doing.
Go anyway.
Sit at their table.
Drink the bad coffee.
Let them tell you stories you’ve heard a thousand times.
Because one day the chair will be empty.
The notebook will be closed.
The porch light will be off.
And you’ll wish you had treated an ordinary Wednesday
like the priceless moment it truly was.
Im a mum of 6 and im currently on benefits, (hopefully not for much longer and should hopefully be back on my feet shortly) but I just wanted to give my opinion on the budget.
The 2 child benefit cap should NOT be removed. I get financial support for 2 of my 6 kids and I can tell you now none of my kids go without food, gas or electric.
They all have nice clothes and school trips paid.
All get christmas and birthday presents.
They do not go without.
Yes its not always easy, but its not supposed to be because its not supposed to be long term and you should be better off in work than on benefits.
The 2 child cap does not keep children in poverty.
Irresponsible spending from parents do. Giving more money wont change that.
It will also take away insentive for people to get back into work because now large families will be worse off with 2 parents working than they would being out of work on benefits.
Support should of gone to working families on the lowest wage, not out of work families.
We are going to see a huge rise in unemployment off of the back of this.
✨Festive giveaway time✨
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