Not that I believe in coincidences. Literally as I pressed "publish" on that last post, the doorbell rang, and it was the nice man who's been painting my windows, coming round to fix a couple of snags.
He started telling me how he'd been at a wedding at the weekend, "doesn't drink", having given up in his twenties, but had drunk a lot of wine at the wedding and was now suffering badly.
I'm glad it was him up the ladder and not me. My legs are stiffening up. I shall try a jog later.
