And here we are again. The rezzies all seem to have had great weekends, with Harry Potter featuring fairly prominently in the entertainment programme, along with visits to places of interest and musea, as well as the joy of just 'being at home'.

We've had a fairly quiet leave out, with visits to Bath and thence to Bristol, where I enjoyed a lovely lunch with our daughter, Hannah, and then, at her suggestion, to go across Clifton Suspension Bridge. Despite the fact that I spent five years at school in Bath, I never went anywhere near the aformentioned bridge, which, along with the fact that geography was never one of my stronger subjects, may have been the rationale behind my expressing some enthusiasm to Hannah that I hadn't been to Wales for some time. She was at pains (literally) to explain that Wales was reached by crossing the Severn Bridge, Daddy. I knew that. Anyway, when we arrived at the checkpoint for crossing we realised that between us we had 50p to go one way, but not a spare 50p piece to return. Fortunately, Hannah found that she had a pounnd coin and so went to a charming gentleman who changed it for her, thus enabling us to go and come back. It was a most enjoyable four minutes. And if the other side was, in fact Wales, I thought it was pretty disappointing.

So, how do you get to Wales in a Mini, then? Yes, that's right: two in the front and two in the back. And how you get to Wales in a Mini? Cross the Severn Bridge. (Actually, I realised half way through typing that that didn't really work when it's written down. Better when you say it. The one about what comes out of the ground at 70mph is much better. Trouble is, of course, that all of you, dear Followers are far too young to remember the similarly-named sports car. The answer, by the way, is an Austin Healey Sprout.)

And before the jokes get any worse, I think I'll cease. Anyone would think we had an inspection tomorrow.

It's good to have them back.

Goodnight.