I'm tempted to do the good cop, bad cop bit, Dave, but I can't be arsed. It's Friday night and the Morrisons negroamaro is going down a treat (legal, unlike magic mushrooms), and we've raised a glass to our much-loved postman (George) who retired today. A man who loved us and his Peroni (we bought him a stash today, natch), with whom we go back many years. He'd do anything for us. Luckily, his younger brother is taking over his round. We'll soon mould him to our ways! The Bude head postmaster (Luke, who just happened to be in the same class as our son at secondary school...) drove George down to our house here in the sticks this afternoon so that we could raise a glass of cava in his honour. Selfies were achieved. Donuel's mission in life is to make things as unsimple as possible in order to impress (his stuff rarely bears close scrutiny, which I've routinely discovered whenever I could be arsed to investigate). Keep posting and keep it simple, even if it's only about your postie!