But I did not inhale...

A casual glance at the roaring furnace representing eighty eight years would suggest Noel is breathing in rather than blowing out. A lovely birthday lunch at Sheol and Cathy's today where nothing naughty at all was inhaled or snorted up the nose. 

The speed with which most of the Tory party are rushing out their confessions of drug mis-use you'd think everyone is at it. A bit of birthday cake and a driver's dram of single malt is all I'm allowing today - but then again I've never been Justice Secretary.

We may wish for some strong relaxant tonight, as young Ivy is not in the best temper and is resisting her pre-bedtime milk with highly audible remonstrations. It's a blessing none of us can remember teething; it must be dreadfully painful.

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