Only if and when

SILENTLY, SILENTLY, the snowflakes flutter down and turn the grey world white.

For once the forecasters have got it right for us. They're right, too, to say it won't linger long: it doesn't. By this morning it's all but gone.

I have to use some warm water to melt the ice off the car's windscreen, but that's about the only inconvenience it causes us.

My Good Lady and I are off to see the practice nurse first thing; its blood test time for us both.

In my case, there's a tiny warning bell sounding about a possible liver problem. And according to my GP it is only tiny.

He's covered the alcohol issue - the obvious culprit - and I've even been semi-truthful about my consumption of the stuff.

He hasn't told me to stop drinking, yet, and I've made it clear to him that I've no intentions of doing so.

Oh, I could give up beer easily enough, and I don't touch spirits. But wine... Wine has become part of my life. Not to share a bottle with MGL over dinner would be like going out without trousers on - dinner would seem undressed, incomplete.

Nor do I plan to give up my other wine tippling - the odd bottle MGL and I share of an evening to some great cool sounds of jazz from the CD player.

All right, if it becomes a seriously health-threatening matter, I'll cut back a bit. But only if and when.