Susan Morrison: No interpretation needed for language of love.. and hate

Published on Thursday 9 September 2010 19:23

They were eastern European, I'm guessing. They resembled the pairings the Soviet bloc used to favour for ice dancing championships.

She was tiny, like the figures you used to see in old fashioned music boxes. About the same size, too. He was a massive lad, about the tonnage of a spy trawler. You could imagine him being trained to chuck the mini-madam about the rink, always being in the right place to catch her on re-entry.

They were on the 9.15am train to Glasgow. And they were noisily in love. There was billing and cooing in a language we couldn't understand. The face chewing was fairly self-explanatory.

He finally came up for air, and sauntered off to the loo. He left his mobile phone behind. No member of the KGB would have made such an elementary error. The phone rang. Our exquisite little lady glanced at the caller id.

The big lad came back and walked in to a firestorm of Slavic fury. We couldn't understand a word, but I'm telling you, I could see why the Wehrmacht feared the women on Eastern Front. She drew nary a breath from Linlithgow to Queen Street, and who knew an iPhone was that tough?

Headless Action Man failed to stop anonymous motor passing its MoT

Our car passed its MoT. Apparently, having unmatched wing mirrors and a headless Action Man on the dashboard are not automatic fails. I've never liked that car, but my inner Calvin won't let me buy a new car till the old one dies.

In fact, I dislike it so much that I've never even named it. I used to drive a huge old Rover 820. She was roughly the size of a battleship. Nippy she was not. You didn't signal prior to manoeuvre. She preferred you to book days in advance. I nicknamed her HMS Indefatigable. I loved her. It was like driving a Dreadnought.

Annie went that extra smile

Farewell Annie Turnbull, who left us just weeks before her 112th birthday. Her daughter Margaret said that everyone had a good word to say about her mum because you can make a lot of friends in 111 years.

Yes, Margaret, that's true. But don't forget, there's a lot of folk out there who not only don't bother making friends, they seem hell bent on making enemies by behaving badly to their fellow beings.

Thanks for your smile, Annie.