The weather continues charming.

News has reached Bracknell Towers that the Editor's mother - who has been spring-cleaning what she insists on referring to as the Editor's bedroom, despite the fact that it has been many years since the Editor was capable of ascending the staircase which leads up to it - has unearthed a five-year diary which the Editor maintained religiously in her late teens.

Said volume having been promised to the Editor when next she and her mother meet, Lady Bracknell suspects it may provide some hilarious angst-ridden content for later blog entries.

Apparently, Mr Larkin has a couple of days free after Easter, during the course of which he could very well find himself coincidentally driving past the Editor's parents' house, whereupon - he says - it would be but the work of a moment to drop in and pick up the diary on the Editor's behalf.

Quite why the Editor should have responded to this kind - and clearly genuine - offer of assistance with shrieks of outrage, Lady Bracknell is at a loss to explain.