Slip sliding away

ATTEMPTING to walk the short distance from her car to the local Sainsbury’s proved precarious for reader Emma Boseley. “The ice coating the carpark was smooth, unfortunately my journey across it was not,” sighs Emma, who skittered, skited, scrambled then landed with a very unTorvill and Dean like thump on the ground. (Judges’ Scores: 0, 0 and 0.)

Emma later explained on the phone to her young granddaughter what happened.

“Women’s shoes should be made from the same material as cow hooves,” said granddaughter. “Cows never fall on their bums.”

Grannie didn’t respond to this zoological deduction. “Though I almost pointed out that cows invariably have more legs than I do,” says Emma. “Plus you rarely spot them grazing in Sainsbury’s carpark on a freezing cold afternoon.”

Tangled tongue

SCHOLAR of the Scots tongue, Paul H Costello, says mixed messages often arise when using popular local phrases. He gives the following example.

Taps aff = It's lovely outside.

Taps aff = You’re wasting water.

Taps aff = I’m not lending you any more money.

Fido finito

A FRIEND of reader Russell Smith grew up on the Isle of Lewis where her father was a hotelier. When she was a little girl her mother told her one morning that the cook’s dog Teddy had died. The youngster took the sad news in her stride.

When asked some hours later by her mother if she wasn’t upset about the demise of the wee dog she was so fond of, the little girl burst into tears.

“I thought you said Daddy had died,” she sobbed.

Journeyman

SKIMMING a magazine, Chris McRae spotted an article about dream destinations to visit in 2021.

Our reader says: “If 2021 is anything like last year, my escapades will include a mountaineering expedition to the loft, a voyage to the end of the living room and a sojourn across the wild prairielands of my back garden.”

Muffled music

“I’M in a band called The Blankets,” reveals reader Charles Miller. “We do covers.”

Gosh, posh nosh

WITH cafes and restaurants shut and home visits frowned upon, socialising is becoming a lost art. Almost. Though reader Mark Thomson strolled past a couple of refined elderly neighbours in Newton Mearns chatting outside one of their houses while enjoying cups of hot chocolate and a plate of Jaffa Cakes.

“With no table, they were balancing the food and drink on a grey plastic wheely bin,” says Mark. “Most refined!”

Triumphantly 21

EXHAUSTED reader Alan Doyle says: “After a year of fighting 2020, I can finally declare… 2021.”

Our columns are a platform for writers to express their opinions. They do not necessarily represent the views of The Herald.