HUNG OVER

Yesterday I went to my neighbour's 60th birthday party lunch in the local village hall. It was all-male, started at 12.30, and finished in the wee hours.

I would like to write more about it, but won't for two reasons. First, I can't remember that much about it. Secondly, I am so dreadfully hung over that my eyeballs are hurting as I write this. I have to go and lie down for - yet another - nap.

Walter Blotscher