A somewhat plaintive note from my indefatigable North Wales correspondent:
Dear Emily, she writes, I don't know your first name, but you seem like an Emily to me, ageing and running to fat and gabby with it. A bit like myself really. Tomorrow, think about me, I'm going for my yearly dilatation and curettage. Do you suffer from excessive earwax too? "It must be a burden", I hear you say. Well, I will be able to hear you say that after they've scraped me out tomorrow.
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, widow, retd, up for it.