Hold on to your hats, the situation has escalated. We're moving up to a code red. Yes people, I've started receiving death threats.

Well, notes regarding the threat of death. Which is almost as good. Personally I'm still holding out for love notes through my door, but it's just not happening. So in the meantime I'll have to make do with this little billet-doux which has come fluttering through my letterbox...



It's nice to know I'm just a chilly night away from certain death. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Which is just as well, coz I obviously can't use my gas fire.

I've written back to Judith (I can see us becoming pen pals) assuring her that there can't possibly be as much debris in the flue as there was on my living room carpet a couple of weeks ago, but I'll have it checked nonetheless, and in the meantime I'll send a small Victorian street urchin up the chimney with a large brush.

So I expect that's the last I'll hear from her.