Ruffled feathers

THE Herald news story about "The Hen Run" at Glasgow School of Art being restored - the glass corridor is said to have got its name because so many female students walked across it - reminds Evelyn Hogarth: "There was a tour group being shown around the Art School before the fire. On reaching the Hen Run a well-spoken member of the party inquired, 'Why is it so called?'

"The guide, missunderstanding the query, replied, 'I suppose cos there’s nae heaters up here'."

Good call

A GLASGOW reader swears to us that a young chap imbibing in his local was asked by his mates if he had got in touch with the girl he had met in a club who had given him her phone number. "Good news and bad news," the chap replied. He then explained: "The bad news is that the phone number she gave me turned out to be the number for Radio Clyde." His laughing pals asked: "So what's the good news?"

"I won two tickets for the Hydro in the phone-in," he replied.

Recipe for disaster

IT has been dubbed Veganuary, as people are urged to try being vegan during the month of January. As reader David Stubley in Prestwick commented: "As The Herald contained almost two pages on vegans and vegan recipes I thought it would help if I passed on this piece of etiquette. How can you tell if someone is a vegan? Don't worry, they will soon tell you."

And our old chum, former Glasgow MP Tom Harris, remarks: "Top tip for those taking part in Veganuary: Add coconut milk to virtually any vegan recipe, and you’ll find it’s much easier to scrape into the bin."

Green with envy

TALKING of food, the New York Times was writing about the heavy snowfalls in America just now and stated: "The shelves of some New York City grocery stores quickly emptied of milk, eggs and kale as New Yorkers stocked up for the storm, and grocers worried whether the next produce trucks would ever arrive." Jen Hogg in Netherlee cannot believe that there are a group of people who, worried about food shortages, would immediately go out and buy cabbages. Probably not happen here, we suspect.

Lots of bottle

WE mentioned folk staring out of the window over the long Christmas and New Year break. A Newton Mearns reader tells us: "My husband was looking out at the wheelie bins which were all over the place because of the high winds before he announced, 'The folk in number four must be heavy drinkers.' When I asked why, he said, 'Their's is the only bin that hasn't moved. It must be all those heavy Prosecco bottles'."


OUR tales about the music of the lovely Sydney Devine remind Ian Young: "My wife’s rather sporty MG Maestro was stolen from a car park in Clydebank in the late eighties. It was discovered abandoned the following day, minus its magnesium alloy wheels - rare and desirable in those days - and its stereo system, but, joy of joys, the thieves had selectively left my wife’s treasured collection of Cliff Richard tapes intact."

Out with a bang

IT'S the New Year, but some of us lament that the traditions of first footing, taking a lump of coal to neighbours and so on, are dying out. Neil Dunn goes on the nostalgia trail by recalling: "When I was an apprentice compositor with a well known firm of religious printers in the 1960s, it was the tradition for all the staff on the last day of the year to bang on anything handy when the last employee finally arrived in the caseroom. To the best of my recollection this was called 'skittery winter' and said recipient of the ear bashing carried the stigma for a good few weeks of the New Year."

Any other traditions you miss?

Never grows old

GROWING old continued. As a Partick reader tells us: "It really brought it home to me when I was admiring an auld fella further down the street going out to the shops in such terrible weather. Then when I got nearer I realised I went to school with him."