Growing Up Around Work and Family Business
People often see where you are now and assume it happened overnight.
What they don’t see are the early mornings, the small jobs, the graft, the laughter, and the lessons learned long before there was ever a title or a plan.
For me, work started young.
Very young.
Learning Early That Everyone Plays Their Part
Growing up, my Gran and Grandad ran a boarding house as well as the minibuses and coaches. There was always something to be done.
Cleaning rooms.
Dishing up meals.
Tidying.
Helping wherever a hand was needed.
I was at my grandparents’ most days — after school, Saturdays, whenever they needed help. I was still in primary school, but I learned early on that everyone played their part. You didn’t question it. You just got on with it.
I was probably a general menace at times too — but I was in it. Part of something.
Riding the Coal Lorry and Seeing Real Graft
My Grandad was a huge influence on me.
Alongside the coaches and boarding house, he ran a coal lorry and a concrete slab business. I’d sit on the back of the coal lorry and head out to the quarry, watching the men do all the heavy lifting.
Big loads.
Hard graft.
No fuss.
Looking back now, it’s the sort of thing that would be completely unacceptable — and rightly so. Health and safety was very different then. Childhood was different.
But at the time, it didn’t feel reckless.
It felt normal.
It felt like work.
And without realising it, I was absorbing everything — responsibility, resilience, and pride in doing a job properly.
Saturdays, Banisters, and the Best Food Going
Saturdays didn’t feel like work.
We had the best time. Sliding down the banisters from the third floor like absolute lunatics, fully convinced we were unstoppable. There was always noise, always laughter, always life in the place.
And the food… honestly, my Gran was the best traditional cook. The kind who fed people properly whether they were hungry or not. Her biscuit jar was sacred — but somehow we always found our way into it.
Fridays were my favourite. Fish in breadcrumbs, proper home-cooked, the kind that filled the whole place with that smell you never forget. The kitchen was always bustling — lodgers, workers, drivers popping in to see what was for eating that day.
My Gran fed them all.
I’ll admit this part now, with a smile…
I’d go home and tell my mum I hadn’t had my tea.
So I’d get fed again.
Two teas. One at my Gran’s, one at home.
Just a hard-working kid with a healthy appetite and a cheeky streak.
Those Saturdays taught me more than how to clean.
They taught me that work could be shared.
That laughter mattered.
That being part of something counted.
Tattie Fields, Berry Picking, and Earning Trust
Then there were the fields.
Potato picking.
Berry picking in the summer.
Even missing school some days to go to the tatties.
What stands out to me now is how hard I worked. Hard enough that I was given a full bit — something usually reserved for older workers. Most younger kids picked half bits.
I didn’t want the easy option.
I liked being trusted.
Learning Responsibility Through Small Jobs
I worked for my uncle on his window-cleaning round, helping collect takings in the evenings. I handled money. I learned how rounds were organised.
I saw how small businesses survive — through consistency, reliability, and showing up.
Simple things. Big lessons.
Saying Yes Before I Felt Ready
As I got older, I said yes to pretty much everything.
I waitressed at private events doing silver service — despite not even knowing what silver service was when I started.
I cleaned pubs and residential flats.
I ran karaoke nights at weekends… and let’s be honest, I’m not a singer. But I gave it a go anyway.
Then there was the time someone I cleaned for asked if I could cut hair.
I said yes.
Why? I’ve absolutely no idea.
But I ended up cutting hair on several occasions.
Looking back now I think —
what on earth was I thinking?
But at the time, it didn’t feel reckless.
It felt like belief.
It felt like, “How hard can it be?”
That “I’ll try” attitude followed me everywhere.
Juggling Jobs and Building Work Ethic
This was also when I started doing office work at A1 — alongside a full-time job at Canon Manufacturing in Glenrothes. Then CRC. Then ADC Telecommunications. All while still working at A1.
And just when you’d think that might be enough… I added more.
Virgin Vie beauty products.
Fitness instructing at my local gym.
At one point, I had four jobs on the go.
Not because I had something to prove.
But because I was curious.
Driven.
Willing.
The Thread That Ran Through It All
Looking back now, I can see the thread running through everything:
Turning up.
Getting stuck in.
Learning as I went.
Trying before I felt ready.
I didn’t grow up chasing titles.
I grew up learning how to work.
And after all that cleaning experience, there’s something I should probably admit…
To this very moment in time, I don’t have a single domesticated bone in my body.
I don’t love housework.
I don’t find joy in spotless cupboards or polished skirting boards.
But give me a coach.
A problem to solve.
A road ahead.
Responsibility for people and journeys.
And I’m calm. Focused. Completely in my element.
From Childhood Jobs to Coach Routes
Sometimes I look back at the juggling, the hair cutting, the karaoke, the four jobs at once and think…
WTF was I thinking?
But underneath all that chaos, something solid was forming.
Belief.
I genuinely believe we can do anything we put our minds to.
Not because it’s easy.
Not because we’re fearless.
But because you learn by doing.
You grow by trying.
And confidence comes from stepping forward before you feel ready.
From sliding down banisters and sneaking two teas…
To coal lorries, tattie fields, factory floors, and coach routes…
None of it was wasted.
Every job left something behind.
And maybe the biggest lesson of all?
Say yes.
You’ll figure it out.