Well, folks, we plough on regardless.

A bit of Conan Doyle describing the journey to Baskerville Hall by young Sir Henry, Watson and Doctor what-ever-his-name-is with the curious Tri-County accent.

A touch of illness over Christmas would have been debilitating to a lesser man, so you can only imagine the disaster it has wrought in me. I tell all here, too.

Plus bread sauce and Huntley & Palmer cheese footballs.