Paul Evans’s excellent country diary from Wenlock Edge (9 December) was quite symbolic of this week’s political farce. His description of a fallen 200-year-old tree, revealing the hidden bones, uncovered and carefully reburied to respect their secret, spoke volumes. But the classic uplift of the wren being an omen and bringing news was a ray of hope for those of us wishing for better times.
Dr Mark Wilcox
New Mill, West Yorkshire
• Rather than being a chronological process (I’m not yet 50 – so why does everyone keep calling me middle-aged?, 7 December), “middle age is when the soul collapses with secretly accumulating disgust”, a definition I heard on the radio late one night many years ago. I’m happy to say that, at 82, my soul is still buoyant.
Hal Dunkelman
Cote, Oxfordshire
• Only the wrapping paper (Letters, 7 December)? I remember my mother ironing actual presents, such as a scarf she didn’t fancy, to be recycled for a birthday or next Christmas. She made a pencilled early version of a spreadsheet to avoid embarrassing errors, which still occurred. Coincidentally, “gift” is the German for “poison”.
Brian Smith
Berlin, Germany
• Until recently, the rolling information bar at the bottom of the large screen in our doctor’s surgery said: “Don’t forget to pre-book your next appointment.” I nearly added “dizzy” to my list of symptoms (Letters, 8 December).
James Vickers
Redcar, North Yorkshire
• The one that drives me mad is “redouble your efforts” – when you probably haven’t yet doubled them.
Stuart Waterworth
Tavistock, Devon
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