Much appreciated, leeneia. I'm a-sittin' here tonight with a rotten cold (slowly subsiding), a toothache (caused by biting too hard on a very solid flame raisin in a box of breakfast cereal), and a nice dose of the owld pink-eye, aka conjunctivitis (the drops are working...). BUT: I only get things that you can't die of, it's Wednesday, therefore I have a glass of Negroamaro to hand, and "It's the first mild day of March: Each moment sweeter than before, The Redbreast sings from the tall larch, That stands beside our door..." (cheers, Wordsworth). Though, in my case, it will have to be my bird table, as I haven't got a larch...