This morning Mrs S decided she'd get us organised. Half an hour of phoning round ensued, she wanted a hairdresser's appointment, an appointment for a massage, her shoulder is playing up, I need a haircut, we needed to book into a pub for a meal on Friday night, and I needed a doctor's appointment as well, although I knew there was no chance of getting to see my doctor, I'd have to settle for a phone call.

Mrs S is booked in for her hair and massage, I'm booked in for a haircut in the morning, we're booked into the Black Bull at Old Langho for our tea on Friday. The doctor ? Ring back tomorrow morning and we'll see what we can do. I just have this feeling that somehow our priorities in this country at the moment aren't quite right.