Susan Morrison: There's been a murder, so we'd better get cooried in

Danish hygge is all the rage now Scots have their own version of relaxing with a warm cuppa on the couch. Picture: PA

Anything Denmark can do, we can do better, right? Why, long before Scandi thrillers were offing Danes at a murder rate only equalled by Morse's Oxford, we were right in there with Taggart, our very own granite-faced laconic detective with a problematic Âbackground and an accent so thick subtitles were required for viewers south of Carlisle.

Taggart the tartan noir telly ‘tec was so relentlessly grim that his department didn’t even seem to notice when he mysteriously vanished for a couple of years and then reappeared with a different head on. Possibly they regarded it as a bonus.

I bet he was a right downer at the office Christmas Party, launching an investigation into just who was responsible for his Secret Santa gift of glow-in-the-dark socks with ‘Lighten Up Misery Guts’ on them.

Yes, we can wipe the floor with our Danish cousins, who have been swaggering about the place boasting that they invented being comfy at home, and called it “hygge”.

Taggart was solving murder cases before Scandi noir was even dreamed of

Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to pronounce this in a trendy artisan coffee shop. It is inevitable that a trendy bearded young hipster will lean forward and correct you. How can anything be relaxing if you can’t even pronounce it correctly?

Anyway, the Danish method of relaxing appears to involve thick woolly socks, hot chocolate and candles.

The candles must be scented, I imagine. Some feet should never be unshod in human company. My dear late father was capable of emptying entire church halls just by removing his shoes. So, in a nutshell, it’s curling up on a sofa with a hot drink, candlelight and socks. I’m not sure what happens after that bit. Basically, that’s it.

Move over, Demark. Scotland’s showing you how relaxing should be done. Take your hygge and sling yer fuffy socks, “coorie” just hit town.

It’s been in Vogue magazine, people, so we’ve got something to be proud of, if only we knew what it was. First of all, what’s with the coorie word? Coorie in, coorie doon, even let’s gets cooried up, but just coorie? Anyone else? Nope, thought not.

One rather suspects it’s been invented by someone. I know! So young to be so cynical, me. Why, look over here, someone’s just writen an entire book about relaxing, Scottish-style.

There’s also a bit about wild swimming in lochs and rivers, but I skipped that. In my day, wild swimming was just called swimming and could only be done during the Glasgow Fair in the Clyde wearing an M&S one-piece cossie that had clad at least three female family members before it reached me.

The rules are pretty Scandi for the relaxing bit, with lots of cosy blankets, more fluffy socks and those candles again. Apparently, it’s all very traditional.

Not when I was growing up it wasn’t.