Answers please

Answers. I demand answers! Answers to those questions that have been bothering me for fifty years. Questions like "Will you still be sending me a Valentine? Birthday greetings? Bottle of wine? If I'd been out till quarter to three, would you lock the door?" Well, from today onwards I'm going to find out, you mark my words.

But for now, I've got things to do. That cottage on the Isle of Wight isn't going to book itself; I hope it's not too dear. And Vera, Chuck and Dave want to sit on my knee which, I can tell you, at their age is no easy thing (their mother was very young, you know, and we never saw HIM again). Now Vera, that wasn't very ladylike, was it? Chuck, don't you dare eat that; you have no idea where it's been. And Dave, I've told you before about that. You'll go blind.

And the pictures? Meerkats at Castle Ashby this morning.