To Clive, on his birthday

It's rare to have a perfect weekend. Usually, the weather, a killer hangover, or a missed flight conspire to taint it. But not this weekend. This weekend is a very strong contender for best weekend ever. Why? A 17th century cottage in the middle of one of England's prettiest villages. Lots of food and drink. Three dogs. Two log fires. A great group of friends. And a top bloke's 40th birthday. It's hard to imagine how it could have been any better. Thanks Pippa!