I am sorry to disappoint those of you who opening up this post in anticipation of seeing something on the gay biking scene. I wish only two things; firstly to announce that I am now well enough to tap out one-handed on the keyboard of a laptop and, secondly and most importantly, to thank, from the bottom of my heart, everyone who has sent me their best wishes. I was acutely touched by your expressions of sympathy and concern, both before and after my daughter’s posting. From what I have read, it seems that I have actually been missed; something that makes an old man happy! I also apologise if my last, melancholic posting caused consternation among those of you who interpreted it as a suicide note. In line with the old, court room joke, I did not know that I had died until I woke up, next morning; or rather that part of me had, temporarily, gone into hibernation. Sometime in the early hours, I remember waking up and feeling rather strange, but I must have gone back to sleep as I was awoken by my ‘home help’ lady, who’s day it was to visit. (Yes, I know. It was a stroke of luck, before anyone says it.) Other than having ‘irrigated’ the bed, I felt no unusual discomfort; it was just that most of one side of me did not seem to being doing anything. When I tried to move or to move arm or leg, each responded with the remoteness and uncertainty of motion of one of those machines at an old-fashioned amusement arcade, in which you try and grab a bar of chocolate with a miniature crane. I was carted off to the Stroke Unit at Hillingdon Hospital for a few weeks, and thence to the adjacent Alderbourne for a few more. Of these two places I cannot speak highly enough; the care that I received was exemplary. I left the latter-named Unit last week and I am now being given shelter a succour by my daughter. It is good to be back!