Get thee behind me! No, not you, dear followers, but the very Devil himself, who is, as I type, doing his level best to get me to partake of the open box of exceedingly good chocs that my daughter has left right next to this machine! I shall not - indeed, I must not - succumb.

First, though, an apology to Miss Chloe. It seems that it was she who organised the Chinese whispers, but I learn from my sources (Heron) that this was a result of her own initiative, whereby she decided that so incensed was she by one or two things that certain Newtonians had, allegedly, been saying, that she would, and indeed did, call a lodge meeting. Following her words of rebuke to the troops, she then instructed those present to start a round or two of Chinese whispers, with the intention of proving how easy it was for malicious rumours to spread so easily. So, full marks to Miss Chloe, I say.

Well, what started out as a rather disappointing evening became a truly special one. Sometimes it just happens. Mrs C has cleverly persuaded Bradders to afix Freeview to the clubhouse telly, and we imagined that this would be 'a good thing'. It, so far, isn't. The reason? You can guess. A billion channels (well, around 20, anyway) and 27 boys is not a good mix. So, following heated negotiations that even my Kissinger-like diplomatic skills were unable to quell, TV was off tonight's menu.

Instead, I was invited to make up a Uno team - and I found myself engulfed by the most competitive couple of rounds I've ever known! They'll be great men, you know, with that kind of drive and determination.

I then moved to the piano and started meandering to little effect, and I soon found that our drawing room was rapidly filling.

"Sir, did you make that up?" Yes, I did, in fact, and, never one to be described as a shrinking violet, I played to my adoring public the only Phil Collins/Elton John balladish hybrid I've written that I thought might stand a chance of publication. It's called 'Moments of Love', and no, I didn't sing the melody, I just played the piano part. It seemed to go down rather well, so if there any music publishers out there, and you'd like a copy, do let me know. I've always wanted an Aston Martin - and I ask for one every year, but, to date, Sarnta seems to consider such extravagance chimney-unfriendly.

Oh well, there's always next year. Unless anyone should have one rotting away in the garage ......

Night night.