Silly Questions: My other anorak's not in the wash

WHAT do train-spotters do when their anoraks are in the wash? Thanks to a multitude of replies, we can offer a definitive picture of the life-cycle of the train-spotter.

Stuart Johnson says: 'Anyone who has been in close proximity to train-spotters will know that their anoraks are never washed.' Nicholas Meakin develops the theme: 'The anorak is a permanent fixture, worn constantly since 1974, with the result that a symbiotic relationship grows up with its owner. Short of surgery, it is impossible to separate the two, which in any case would be extremely dangerous. Not only would it reveal a Fair Isle tank top three sizes too small (perhaps accounting for the strangulated voice train-spotters seem to possess) but also because this causes extreme insecurity and distress - a condition known as Anoraksia Nervosa.'

Tricia Brown thinks that while a train-spotter's anorak is in the wash, he is at the laundrette. Diana Howard agrees, mentioning the joy of watching it going round. 'The true professionals note the wash cycle, time taken, and make, model and serial number of the washer.'

Jeff Bright claims: 'Any train- spotter worth his salt possesses two anoraks, one yellow, the other orange.' As the best train-spotting is done in a downpour, they are virtually self-cleaning. 'The down-time for a typical yellow anorak would be around 20 days a year, or 10 days in Wales and North-west Scotland.' Tom Gaunt claims anoraks have their annual wash at Christmas, when there are no trains running.

Which brings us to this week's first question, also from Tom Gaunt: Since the train-spotter is almost exclusively male and must therefore lack breeding partners, why do their numbers neve seem to diminish? Which is closely followed by this week's second question: Why is everyone so beastly to train-spotters? (R Bannerman).

Back on the answers track, we have some useful terminological information about pieces of string too short to tie knots in. The RevBarry Etherington introduces us to the concept of Sufficient Reef- (K)nottability, or SRN for short. If this is removed from string, it leaves tig, which he claims, is the term we seek. Another word is provided by Len Clarke, who says that a piece of string too small to be tied in a knot is known as a shoelace.

Stuart Cockerill believes the fact that a three-year-old raised the question 'is indicative of the sad state of pre-school education in Britain today. The average Belgian three-year-old could concisely explain Superstring Theory and its 26 dimensions, most of which are curled up like balls of string. Any piece of string, however small, extends into these curled-up dimensions and is impossible to unravel without discovering a knot.'

He also answers Duncan Bull's query on why the English language is harsh on bulls: 'Because they are ungainly, stupid and smelly, fit only for slaughter. Contrast the Imperial Majesty of the Cockerel: harbinger of the new day.' Nicholas Gough bullishly and bulldoggedly takes the bull by the horns and scores a bull's-eye in his list of positive aspects of the word bull.

Questions: Why are blonde men not considered dumb, when blonde women are? (Angela McSoley) Why does your pen, which has reliably doodled and filled in the crossword, run out when you start a letter? (Diana Howard in two different inks) Why can you be inept but not ept? (Bruce Ballard). Answers to Silly Questions, The Independent, 40 City Road, London EC1Y 2DB.