Fred (et al), I know what you mean, mate. A five-day bout of diverticulitis here, the trigger was a pizza night before my son headed back to uni. Back on the mend, huzzah, and hope the same for you.

My Chrissy scotch has run dry, I fear, and Memsahib is steering an effort for the both of us to each drop a stone or two so thats that. I'm completely and voluntarily on board with that effort to the extent of giving the whisky a break for a while, cutting 'way back on drive-in visits, bread, fizzy-drinks, sitting around in the evenings streaming vid and narfing crisps or crackers, lots of easy low hangers.

I do draw the line at being denied my every-other-week bangers and mash or the occasional burger at the greasy spoon up the road when Paul stops by.

No effing kale, either! Grin!