Now how did that happen? I have no idea. I was away for the day yesterday to Holy Island. It was a beautiful day, enjoyable company, walk round the Island, gambolling lambs - nothing terribly energetic, really. I did stretch and yawn at one point and that may have been what did it. Anyhow, I was in pain last night and it was worse today. I took a hefty dose of ibuprofen which then upset my stomach. So I'm in Spiky Mike's at Mass (Church in purple - not red? Unveiled crucifixes over the pulpit, on the High Altar and in procession???), my back hurts, I have heartburn and because there is a sermon as well as the Palm Gospel, procession and Sung Passion according to Matthew I need a wee as well! Suddenly a wee voice in my head suggests a drink would kill the pain. And it starts nagging. So the logic kicks in: go and get some ibuprofen gel to deal with the back and not annoy the stomach; Bisodol is at home, so stomach can be calmed. Go out after communion and have a pee. And receive in one kind in case you get a taste for the stuff and the urge becomes irresistible. The logic triumphed. What was it they said about alcohol - Powerful, patient and cunning? Yes it is and it snuck in an attack when my defences were lowish. But it got beat. Holy Week may be a bit of a minefield this year. I hope to survive.