I’m having a bit of bother with my full size eyboard. One of the characters, the ey between J and L, only works when it can be arsed. It serves me right I suppose. I purloined the delinquent eyboard when I was helping young offenders and petty theft shouldn’t pay after all. I could buy a Turish eyboard but all those unfamiliar extra characters in strange positions would mean unlearning decades of appalling typing. This old dog can’t learn new trics.

I’ll buy a substitute on the next trip to Blighty for my Mother’s 80^th birthday grand gala in March. Meanwhile, I am left to compose my latest masterpost by hunching uncomfortably over the undersized laptop keypad designed for infant digits, unnaturally contort my sagging upper torso and aggravate the repetitive strain injury that I painfully acquired during many arduous years of unsung but heroic public service.