Welcome to the Herald Diary newsletter by Lorne Jackson. Going strong for half a century, The Diary finds the sublime and the ridiculous in Scottish life.
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Planet Earth is a cruel and heartless neck of the woods, and we wouldnât recommend loitering in such a disreputable neighbourhood for any amount of time.
Though occasionally the relentless nastiness is rudely interrupted by a small act of kindness.
Scottish broadcasting legend Paul Coia says: âDaughter number two spots a bird on our balcony thatâs stunned after flying into the window. She decides to âbuild it a wee houseâ while it recovers.â
The "wee house" was a rather large umbrella, which she adapted to shelter the walloped warbler.
After a couple of hours the bird had fully recovered. And without even a casual âCheers, hon!â for Paulâs daughter, it flew off.
(We told you the world was a terrible place.)
An educational tale.
Neil Muir used to work as an estate agent and he was once showing a couple round a Tudor-style house in the posh southern outskirts of Glasgow.
The woman, anxious to appear knowledgeable, said to her husband: âDid you know that they had mock-Tudor houses in Shakespeareâs time?â
âThatâs true,â interrupted Neil.â Though in those days they were just called Tudor houses.â
âWhy?â inquired the intrigued lady customer.
Confused Duncan Graham from Stirling says: âSurely the whole point of eating them is so that you donât feel knackered?â
Visiting a hostelry in Glasgowâs East End, reader Mike Reddington overheard a heated conversation between two booze-addled blokes.
It proceeded in the following mannerâŚ
Boozy Bloke Number 1: Yâknow, Iâve always wunnered. Dae ye need a car driverâs licence tae be a train driver?
Boozy Bloke Number 2: Dinnae be daft, man! Thatâs like sayinâ, âDae ye need a hundred metres swimming badge tae be an astronaut.â
Boozy Bloke Number 1: (suitably chastened) Aye, right enough. Silly me.
Another daffy dialogue.
Visiting Inchinnan Community Centre, reader Jim Morrison overheard two senior members chatting at the next table.
"The wife said I woke her up, passing wind, the other night," revealed one chap.
"Were you in bed with her at the time?" enquired his curious chum.
"No,â said the first chap. âShe said I was in the bathroom doing a pee at the time. I was quite proud."
One of our correspondents, Ian Noble from Carstairs Village, recently recalled his granny washing clothes with a wringer.
Responds reader Charles Currie: âSwanky! My granny only had a mangle to dry her sheets. How the posh folk of Carstairs Village liveâŚâ
Economics â the bitter truth.
Reader Ben Morton explains: âThe easiest way to figure out the cost of living is to take your income, then add twenty per cent.â
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