Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

Moreen Simpson: I’ve finally admitted my ‘temporary’ walking stick is a permanent feature

It can be difficult to admit that a walking stick would make life much easier (Photo: Matjaz Preseren/Shutterstock)
It can be difficult to admit that a walking stick would make life much easier (Photo: Matjaz Preseren/Shutterstock)

Have I owned up I’m using a walking stick?

Don’t tell a soul. Black-affronted. Meant to be only a temporary “aid”, it’s now got to the supremely stupid stage that I can barely go a step without it.

Like sucking my thumb as a bairn and smoking as a daftie adult, I’ve become addicted. At least I’m too posh for one of those NHS silvery aluminium efforts. My support is a very classy trekking pole, complete with horn handle, which gives me the look of some athletic craiter fresh off Lochnagar. It was a gift to me from an aunt and uncle for my 60th birthday and retirement – they obviously thought I’d follow in their adventurous footsteps, still hillwalking into their 80s. Nae chunce. Too busy lunching into the four o’clocks.

So I stuck it at the back of a wardrobe for years until, around the start of Covid time, I began getting breathless on my tootles. Doc declared I was too fat (now there was a surprise) so I on a diet and dug oot the pole.

A retirement spent hillwalking was never on the cards (Photo: Shutterstock / Apostolis Giontzis)

It’s brilliant for taking much of my weight when I’m oot and aboot. Mind you, when I notice my shadow, I cringe at the sight of this decrepit al’ wifie. It now comes with me almost everywhere I go – not that I aye remember. I’m constantly stickless in a supermarket when I leave it leaning at the lemons or propped by the prawns. The other day when we went to the wonderful Brechin Castle, my grandtoots spent much of their time on various treasure hunts to track down where I’d left the ruddy thing.

Trouble is, I’ve started to get all nervie when I don’t have it. Truth be told, I’ve aye been a hiterer. My mum took Little Mo to the GP because every time I ran doon the brae ootside the hoose, I ended up barrelling forward and doon, both knees a bloody mess. She suspected something was badly wrong with my feet. Nah, sez the doc. She’s just clumsy. Spot on.

My knees are as cratered as the surface of the moon

I’ve had various careless tumbles over my decades, leaving my knees – as a beau once so romantically observed – as cratered as the surface of the moon. You’d think my trusty pole would be a superb guarantee against those unpredictable heid-firsts. Except… I don’t use it when I’m at home, where I wear bachled but affa comfie slip-on sandals. For those of a sensitive nature, look away now.

I’m hirplin’ with a vengeance and I need my precious pole more than ever

A couple of times recently – once in the hoose and once in the garden – I’ve stepped on the floppy back of a sandal and keeled backwards. Fortunately without the tiniest injury. However, a week ago today, the bin mannies arrived earlier than I expected, when I’d still another baggie of stuff to chuck.

On red alert when I heard them clattering doon the street, I on with my bachles, grabbed the baggie, opened the front door, tripped over the mat and – like a superb triple-jump Olympian – sailed through the air and landed on two knees and a shin. Even my covering of trousers couldn’t protect my poor skin from the bashing it took.

So now I’m hirplin’ with a vengeance and I need my precious pole more than ever. (Bachlies have been binned.)


Read more by Moreen Simpson: