Iain Maciver: If Kate had only listened to Beyonce she might have avoided photoshop shame

St Kilda is often in the news, with those wee isles being so remote and having been evacuated quite forcibly nearly 100 years ago.

Many a tale has been told about the unique way of life out there, with the men having very strong legs and ankles with famously big toes that seemed to develop for climbing sheer cliff faces to reach much-needed food in the form of birds’ eggs.

Rare species of animals are still to be found there, including Soay sheep. They used to have a parliament which met each day to make the to-do list. Climb cliffs, gather eggs, eat dinner.

St Kilda’s archipelago sight to be seen

I have been lucky enough to reach the archipelago a few times.

Firstly, at a wedding in 1993, the first such celebration on main island Hirta since 1926, when myself and other reporters, who were mostly from London, put-putted our way out in a local fishing boat that was pretty much open to the elements.

We namby-pamby scribblers were sick as dogs, but we wouldn’t have missed it.

However, since then, I have made the 42-mile excursions courtesy of Her Majesty’s coastguard helicopters. So very different. Warmth, a splendid view, and tea with chocolate biscuits.

We met welcoming squaddies of the Royal Artillery and the National Trust of Scotland staff who are on the island for at least part of the year.

What I didn’t know then was that another aircraft on a mercy mission to St Kilda had caused absolute mayhem.

A project in Uist has acquired movie footage, which it is currently digitising, of regular airdrops to the island when the weather was too bad for a boat to reach.

That, of course, was why the original inhabitants had to leave. That, and the awful tetanus that was killing two-thirds of all island babies.

In one particular drop of mail and provisions, part of the consignment was chicken. Not chicken portions nor the finely-sliced roast, variety but deep-frozen chicken.

They would have been taken out of the freezer that day in Inverness or Oban and put straight on the wee Cessna aircraft for the drop.

They would then be let go over a soft field and be recovered. One of these drops on Hirta did not go as planned. In the 1980s, a squaddie strayed too far into the target field during one drop.

A solid chicken was released above and, without benefit of a parachute, the flying frozen fowl flattened the foolhardy fusilier. It fractured his flipping forearm, a faded factsheet says.

Talking of low-flying aircraft on St Kilda reminds me that I have been accused of doing something similar. Some writers, who are virtually paid by the word, get accused of taking too long to get to the point. In this house, Mrs X has her own term for it.

When I blab on, she yawns and says that I am “circling the airport”. That is the hint for me to wind up. She insists I cannot get to the point of any yarn quickly. Her new put-down is: “You’re not writing 800 words for the P&J now, you know.”

Princess Kate’s photoshop fails

Someone else getting put-downs is Catherine, Princess of Wales. Her attempt at photo manipulation at the weekend was a shocker.

And how did she forget that the hand round the wee one was not quite right? Beyoncé once sang: “If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it.”  No excuse, as it was Catherine’s own hand that had no ring. The weird limbs, the unnatural-looking garment borders, I could go on but I would be accused of circling again.

One thing puzzles me. Photoshop is the best tool for editing. Mrs X, being a snapper, uses it every day for tweaking.

It’s now AI-enabled and will fix errors and incompetence. Just select Fix All or something geeky like that.

The princess just doesn’t have what it takes. And she is too bronzed. Picture editors are geeks and they don’t get out much. Their favourite saying is: “Never trust a picture editor with a tan.”

And I would never trust someone to look after my parrot.

Murdo was taking care of a parrot for his friend, Roddy. It was a very rude bird. It constantly swore and made fun of Murdo.

So he took the impertinent parrot and put it in the freezer. That was awful but the parrot went quiet. George thought: “On no. I’ve froze Roddy’s parrot to death.” He opened the freezer saw the bird was alive. The parrot said: “I’m sorry for my behaviour and will never do it again.”

Murdo said: “Why the change?” The parrot answered: “Because I have just seen what you did to the last bird you put in there.”

Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides