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Yesterday was a beautiful day in our part of the world. The sun was very warm, dozens of birds were singing and we had the prospect of welcoming our daughter and granddaughter for dinner. However it was not with a cheery demeanour that I faced the prospect of doing my annual accounts, clearing out the chicken hut, and mowing the jungle (aka known as the chicken run) with little more than a 1965 motorised pen-knife. Naturally, after completing my "fowl" chores I felt duty bound to savour several glasses of cold chardonnay.

Later on I received a very interesting e-mail from Craig Biddle and what he said meant that I had to start sobering up instead of going back for more chardonnay.
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