Well coven, I've had a large swig of the old aqua vitae and have, pith helmet on and machete in hand ventured forth. It's blo**dy dark in here, does nobody ever prune these rhododendrons. Where's that Sarumite chap, he promised to show me around and I'm a bit concerned particularly as I overheard some scary story about some bloke having to cook for his Mem-Sahib. She wants eggs? Let her have them molly coddled. Womans still got one good hand, what's she whingeing about. And this Pauline woman, something about a gamekeeper. Good grief, is that Oliver Mellors chap not up to the job these days, good upstanding member of society I'd heard. Oh well, can't hang around, need another noggin before Bedfordshire. Got to be up in plenty of time for that "show off, whose up earliest, damn crossword". Lazy so and so's in the nearby hamlet can't be bothered to get out of their pits so no DT GK till way gone reveille at 7. Toodle pip. Strix