Woken by god botherers this morning. They seem to have adopted the same time to call as the postman. I really think that knocking on a chaps door at 11 on a saturday morning should be outlawed.
Uncle Nemesis said he'd be slipping by this afternoon for tea and cake. No doubt he will continue to inform me that in his medical (he's a screen printer) opinion I have TB.
Maybe I should have a bet with Unx on this TB thing... But I seem to remember he still owes me £100 on some little bet about his car being back on the road by last Christmas. Not that I'd want to take his money... I'd probably return it to his Mini restoration fund or the pub.