I drove to Edgware and back on Monday. I think that might account for my chronic backache, rather than the occasional bulb planting session.

I'd forgotten how commuting and work instills a death wish in some motorway drivers. Three lanes of traffic, moving at more or less the same speed. But more and more nutters who still think that if they weave in and out, overtaking on the left, just to get one place further ahead in the 'fast' lane, they will get home ten minutes earlier.

They make life hazardous for those of us who still try to pull into an empty space in the inner lanes. But worse, I kept having lit cigarette butts thrown my way. I became paranoid - what if one of those carelessly discarded butts had bounced up and stuck to the underside of my car? It's a wonder that I managed to prise my hands off the steering wheel when I got to the ferry port. And - anyway - if they don't care about my fireball fears, haven't they watched "Planes, Trains & Automobiles?"