I was going to wax lyrical about the walk up Batch Valley onto the Long Mynd in the snow but I've already done a load of paeans to the Shropshire Hills.
When driving home from such walks we often catch a few minutes of Elaine Paige's smorgasbord of show-tunes on Radio 2. Not because she is any way an accomplished presenter, nor because her guests are interesting, nor indeed because half the songs are the least bit good.
No, we climb on-board her hot, pink-sequinned, high-stepping, chorus-line of love because her laugh is one one of the wonders of the western world. Really.
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