A bit earlier tonight the partner cooked a lovely creamy fish pie for dinner. When he hauled me out of bed to eat it I thought it smelled lovely. However, I am feeling so unpleasantly ill all I could manage were a couple of forkfuls. Tasted lovely, but my ‘man-flu’ (aka the cold I caught a few days ago) is placing limits on what I feel I can manage to eat.

So what has been my main source of calorific intake for the day? Until twenty minutes ago it had been the few doses of Lemsip I’d downed. But this is obviously far too weak and feeble for a hero of the drink world (if I may classify myself as such). So I just popped a bottle of Henry Westons Special Reserve Vintage Cider. Hooray! 8.2% of characterful pleasure. That with the spot, alright.