I have no idea what Heffer sounds like but when I read this all I can hear is Stephen Fry.
I have exhorted you all to read carefully what you write. I think some of you are now doing this, but not always thinking about what it is that you read. This can be the only explanation for this week's worst horror (and, sadly, there is some competition). We ran a story in Tuesday's paper about a farmer's wife who died of a heart attack after a thief stole diesel from her farm. This unfortunate lady was called Mrs Dove. Her son is called Michael Dove. In the story he became Michael Gove; who happens to be the Conservative spokesman on schools. You might think this could hardly get worse. I fear it could, and did.
There have been so many literals this week that I suspect some of you either never could spell, or have given up trying. Perhaps my favourite was "hocky mom", followed by "plumb compote" (bring on the lead poisoning). One reader, having spotted the words "Chrsitmas" and "adminsitration" in the same story wondered whether our newsroom was now being run by "mnokeys". While it is good to provide the customers with amusement, it should be intentional. Grammar remains a treacherous slope. There is still a difficulty with conjugating the verb "to drink". Be in no doubt: the beer was drunk, but the man drank the beer. Page 6 of our modest but robust little style book contains a description of the difference between "may" and "might". They are not interchangeable, oddly enough. Do feel free to have a look at it.
* a.k.a. The Grauniad