Yesterday's unusually dry and sunny weather afforded the opportunity for my mother-in-law and I to enjoy a barbecue and dinner on the terrace (yard). This was, of course, accompianied by several large glasses of Rose wine and so, dear reader, this morning I am suffering from the predicatable hangover.

My question is this; is it possible that after thousands of years of human civilazation and a fair few years of medical research that I have discovered the fabled cureall? How can it be that a simple bacon sandwich (ketchup, not brown sauce!) has such extraordinary restorative properties?

All of a sudden I feel clear-headed and fighting fit, ready to embrace the day (but not my mother-in-law). Time to get on and get going, things to do, people to see. And all the while, silently thanking the pig and the butcher for making all this possible! Long live the bacon sarnie...