… Are Brilliant Mark XIX

Cycling. Most particularly without the constant fear of puncture. The old mountain bike may weigh half a ton but it feels bomb-proof compared to the precious, which latter has gone for residential therapy to my favourite bike doctor, John Bedford at Park Cycles.

Soft herring roes - I am only allowed to prepare this economical treat when Sharon is out, on account of the smell. She doesn't know what she's missing. £1.35 a tin in Sainsbury's. Bloody bargain.

Winning the Ashes. Don't let the naysayers convince you that somehow England's unexpected victory is massively less noteworthy than that of predecessors from some supposed golden age. Four weeks ago most sane commentators gave England no chance. What we have witnessed is the mental disintegration of a brittle Australian side and, moreover, that disintegration achieved without recourse to the coarseness ("sledging") excused as professionalism that Steve Waugh (an estimable cricketer just below the peak of greatness) used to encourage. Mind you we needn't be too prissy about Waugh because he has had numerous poor English imitators.