Meeting of the Parliament 10 February 2026 [Draft]
Yesterday, I went to see my 92-year-old aunt. She is a remarkable woman: independent, sharp minded and proud of standing on her own two feet. She still lives on her own, and she is rightly determined to do so for as long as she can. However, she gets meals on wheels, and she pays her contribution towards that.
When I arrived yesterday, it was around lunch time and my aunt said, “Would you like some soup?” So, she put some soup on, and we sat down and had lunch together. As we were eating, the doorbell rang and it was the meals on wheels service—my aunt had forgotten that she had ordered it. The meal that arrived was sausage and gravy with mashed potato and vegetables, which was perfectly respectable fare. Where did it come from? Here is my point: it came from Trowbridge, Wiltshire. It had travelled all the way from Wiltshire to reach a 92-year-old woman who lives in a part of Scotland that contains some of the most productive agricultural land in the country and has some of the best livestock farming that can be found anywhere. It is a place that produces world-class food. I have nothing against Wiltshire—for heaven’s sake, I am a unionist; I believe in the United Kingdom. However, it is deeply ironic that, while we have spent hours in committee and in the chamber talking about community wealth building, local procurement and keeping money circulating locally—