From rattling a St John Ambulance tin outside Woolworths to teaching CPR at Hampden and Ibrox — and now being taught the recovery position by my seven-year-old granddaughter, on a unicorn, in the back of Evie.
A weekend in Halifax to watch Dr Rhona Morrison's show at the Victoria Theatre should have been straightforward. It wasn't. A tale of train chaos, a Tunnock's Teacake, four bars of Cadbury Dairy Milk, and why paper tickets might have been right all along.
