Aaargh! Give me patience! Well, that’s the problem actually. I’ve too many patients. Two too many.

We’ve just arrived in Lisbon and the Oldies are sick. They’re both down with ‘flu-like symptoms. What rotten luck! We’re finally by the sea again, the sun is shining, there isn’t a cloud in the sky and I’m confined to quarters with the Wobbly Wingless Wonders. Talk about being as sick as a parrot!

Her Ladyship is having palpitations about the fact that His Lordship is in no fit state to cook. She somehow musters the strength to get herself down to the nearest Indian restaurant and struggles back up the hill with a takeaway. For her efforts, she’s expecting a hero’s welcome, a medal for bravery and a double helping of T.L.C. I hope it keeps fine for her!

I actually feel sorry for His Lordship on the other hand. He has a bad dose. I mean, it must be quite serious if he not even showing any interest in cooking! I think it’s time for Dr Seamus to come to the rescue…

… Sorry, Her Ladyship dozed off over the keyboard there. I’ve just had to give her another peck in the ribs to get her typing again. This is a bit of a disaster!

Then again, every cloud has a silver lining. His Lordship’s ears are so badly blocked up he’s practically deaf and Her Ladyship’s throat is so sore she can barely whisper, so they’ve agreed that there’s no point her even trying to talk. Silence is gold…

Oh no, she’s snoring again!

Coughing and spluttering, sniffing and sneezing, cold sweats and fevered mutterings. What an ordeal!

I hope I survive it.