The theme continues. This is the all-conquering, or “quite good”, Surrey Chapel squad of which my son and brother were both members. Son David is in the front row, second from the right, and brother Phil is far right on the back row with the, ahem, beard. Again the time must have been around 1990. The team – indeed the entire church league – had its roots in a radical twice-yearly game I helped organise in the early 60s with my friend David Green. We played Park Church, whose team contained my uncle and two cousins. After I moved to London in 1966, the Easter Monday and Boxing Day games developed into a proper league with teams containing almost no relations at all, but all this came too late for me, and I never played as much football as I would have liked. And in case you were wondering how radical it was, this all stemmed from a time and place where sport was regarded as a not sufficiently spiritual activity. David Green is now a deacon, so it must have been all right.

Back to my medical condition: I’m still feeling rather divorced from reality and generally fuzzy, as if my head hasn’t been tuned in properly. I slept quite well last night, and the pain in my head has gone, but I still have a clogged-up feeling and a bit of a cough, as well as dryness in the mouth. Just not really connecting, somehow. A generally achy feeling.

I’m not looking for sympathy. Well, maybe a little. My grandson sent me a lovely card and Dot is being very solicitous and lovely. I’ve just walked up to the post office to post some letters and got the feeling people were looking at me rather nervously, as if I was ill or something. I realised it was the first time I’d been out of the house for a week.