I have bittersweet memories of the National Housewives’ Register (G2, 27 February). Sometime around 1971, my friend Roy’s wife asked if I’d speak at a meeting of the local branch in High Wycombe. I did not take this seriously since they were, after all, only housewives. I was asked to talk about incomes policy. I was slaughtered, especially by an ex-Treasury mother, but all the others joined in. A field day for them, a humiliating lesson for me.
John Purcell
Coventry
• I became a great-grandparent last week, and the joy and delight was mixed with such strong feelings of anxiety, depression and anger at the shitty world into which the little fellow has been born. Then I saw the protests by schoolchildren waiting to hear Greta Thunberg speak (Report, 29 February). My heart was lifted. Maybe there is some hope for him...
Maggie Warwick
Leeds
• So Newcastle United FC players and staff are no longer shaking hands because of the coronavirus outbreak (Sport, 29 February). What’s the wider guidance from the government on this commonly practised ritual? The classic chant “you don’t know what you’re doing” springs to mind.
Liz O’Connell
St Albans, Hertfordshire
• In all this correspondence (Letters, 29 February), no one has mentioned one of the best marmalade treats: marmalade tea, made with one dessertspoonful and boiling water. Wonderful. At 85, I have it most days.
Maryrose Romer
Mayfield, East Sussex
• Mention of the “lord of the dark settee” (Letters, 29 February) reminds me of an assembly at a Salford high school when I heard students singing about the “lord of the damp settee”. Up ’ere, of course, vowels are flatter.
Ann Hudson
Prestwich, Manchester
• At my east Midlands Sunday school, aged five, I was taught the same song, but heard “damn settee”. My Catholic granny wasn’t pleased!
Anne Betts
Swanley, Kent
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