This morning, I wanted to see a doctor so I phoned our local surgery, and got an appointment for ten minutes later. How's that for service?! Dr Abdullah Ali - what a fine old English name that is - checked my chestal area and said he could find nothing wrong. I was just relieved that he had managed to locate my chest.
But this is not why I am telling you about my visit to the doctor's. In the few minutes I had to wait, I opened a magazine. You know the kind: pages dog-eared and yellowed, feature article on the abdication of King Edward the Eighth, etc, and in amongst this flotsam, an article on Stress and How to Deal with it. I ignored the bit about cutting down on alcohol and coffee, and the advice to take up yoga - or was it yogurt?
But I warmed to the bit about Communing with Nature, which is why I went birdwatching this afternoon. Well, ok, there was another reason: I had sent off to the publisher what I hope will be the last bit of the dreaded book , and I wanted to give myself a reward. No doubt he will get stressed out, poor chap. Maybe I should send him a picture of a Gobelimosveh.