We have played host for the last couple of days to some random American*. He brings gift of fancy truffles and cultivated wild rice – something of a paradox there, I feel – and is therefore welcome at any point in the future.

Unfortunately, we did only 'play' at host, however, for though we carefully prepared our spare room for his arrival, I was far too tired to be of any use a a host, having been up all night with Jenny who had contracted a violent stomach bug. Needless to say, the young lady herself was about as much use as a nun in a knocking shop. So we did try very hard to be witty, vivacious and entertaining hosts, but fear we may have appeared as foul-mouthed, barely-animate zombies. Sorry, Cope.

In other news, we saw the new Wallace and Gromit movie (Mini-review: Warm-hearted and very rewarding) and I made some kick-ass consommé for my convalescent wife.

The site is coming on; all feedback appreciated.

* The odd nature of the method by which we know this man was brought home to him when he went through HM Customs and Excise: when asked who he was staying with, he gave our name. Then he was asked how he'd met us. In retrospect, his honest answer of "On the Internet" was perhaps not the best one, but the man let him through. After conducting a full body cavity search.†

† Not really.‡

‡ Yes, really! ◊

◊ No...