Grin and bare it

GLASGOW writer Deedee Cuddihy was intrigued to be handed a leaflet intimating that the Scottish Outdoor Club will be celebrating its 80th anniversary on the Loch Lomond island of Inchmurrin with a weekend “knees up”. The knees will certainly be out and proud as the organisation promotes a “clothes-free lifestyle”. The event, at the end of August, will feature a tea-party and barbecue. The chap with the barefaced cheek to hand Deedee the leaflet enthused: “And just think – no dressing for dinner!” All very well, thought Deedee, “but I can’t help thinking it will be a real feast for the midges.”

Last supper

READER Paul Jardine was intrigued by information in the Daily Record Magazine’s report about a food and drink festival in Skye: “Scott Davies, dead chef at The Three Chimneys, will share his experience and talent.” Says Paul: “An interesting opportunity to learn about cooking and commune with the departed at the same time.” Indeed. The Death by Chocolate should be interesting.

Hen party

NEWS from progressively bonkers Sweden, where there’s a debate about getting rid of the gender pronouns “he” and “she” and replacing them with a genderless pronoun they call “hen”. Not sure how that’ll go down with feminists in Scotland.

Mwah word

MORE linguistic shenanigans, and it’s reported that actors are starting to drop the word “dahling” when greeting each other. Legend has it the effusive expression has its origins in actors remembering their lines but not the names of fellow thespians at parties. We look forward to a new era in which they greet each other thus: “Lovely to see you, thingwie.”

Dogging off work

AND yet more mad news from Scandinavia where pet food and accessories chain Musti Group is offering three-day parental leave to employees who acquire a new pet. What’s it been dubbed? Correct: pawternity leave.

Taking the piscine

OUR story yesterday about peculiar pieces prompts Maryburgh reader Ian McDonald to recall: “In the late sixties, I worked in Clydebridge Steelworks, where we had an elderly chap in our squad who’d buy a fish supper the night before and eat the chips. Next day, he’d bring the fish into the bothy, put it between two slices of bread, and heat it under the grill. This happened several times a week. A deep fried battered fish sandwich!” Clearly, this chap had been on the batter the night before – and needed a hair of the haddock next day.

Fork that

WHILE we’re on a roll, our man in Auchtermuchty, John Marshall, recalls stopping for a cup of tea at a graffiti-daubed Portakabin and noticing it had a stovies roll listed on the menu board. On impulse, he decided to widen his culinary horizons. “Have you had one before?” asked the lassie behind the counter. “No,” replied John, feeling curiously inexperienced. “Best eaten with a fork,” advised the helpful lass. Sounds rather refined to the Diary. Get it down in two big bites.

I’ll get my coat

OUR man in Ayr, John Nisbet, recalls youthfully impressing ladies at the dancing when, asked what he did for a living, saying: “I am a surface protection and decoration engineer.” Actual title: painter and decorator.

Ken Smith is away.