I see from this morning's edition of The Times that our Prime Minister cannot decide whether he favours the Rich Tea or the Digestive biscuit. Well, I must be careful when writing about Our Leader, as his mother-in-law lives only a few houses away from us in Dorset, and the chances are that she's reading this, but suffice it to say that the Newton Obergrupenfuhrer has no such issues: he will eat both varieties with equal alacrity. As you know. Good morning, Mrs Macaulay.

My greeting this morning was 'Sir, there's a scorpion in the vins'. Upon investigation I discovered that there was no evidence of a creature from the Outback on vacation in the Northern Hemisphere, just a particularly large daddy-long-legs. Still, it pays to be careful ..... !

Here's a definition for you. 'A large, noisy and unweildy group of jostling and shoving young people, a few of whom have been selected to emit an unpleasant caterwauling in the name of musical ability, in front of a selection of bickering self-styled experts whose intention and reason for existence is to make anyone in front of them feel as in intimidated and uncomfortable as possible.' Yes, that's right, it's any one of the wannabe programmes on any television in the world. X Factor, Britain's Got (Ho Ho) Talent, etc. Or, alternatively, as we saw last night, it is a fine description (a rather generous one, actually) of the evening's entertainment 'Curlew Hasn't Got Any Talent Whatsoever'. (As I re-christened it.) I couldn't fault anyone for enthusiasm: that was terrific. But so was the noise. At least they enjoyed it - I think (although it was a job to tell!), but silent reading came a blessed relief - and started three minutes early!

John Cage, the American composer and philosopher, 'composed' a piece (as I'm sure you know) entitled '4 minutes, 33 seconds'. It consists of four minutes and thirty-three seconds of complete silence. Now that's talent.