We're off to St Leonards tonight to see my parents. It's a trip which has been on the cards since about 1pm on Monday when I handed four pound coins to an old dear in a charity shop and walked out with a moth-eaten old horse. As things stand right now, Shergar is in the boot of my car with a bin liner over his head. I wasn't going to let Amelie see him yet, in case she got over-excited by the awesome magnificence of the thing, and refused to go to bed until we let her ride it for an hour. But unfortunately she caught a glimpse of him standing in the hallway on Wednesday night. I say unfortunately, because she took one look at him, thought it was some kind of dangerous dog, and ran screaming in the other direction. We've been forced to hide him under a blanket ever since, just so she can sleep at night. So it's either St Leonards or a skip. And Amelie got outvoted.