Yesterday was a good day really. Rosie arrived about 12ish, and after lunch we took the dog for a walk in the fields. We went past the golf course, and that's where the trouble started. Crowds of golfers literally knocked me to the ground asking for my autobiography, or autograph, I can't remember which. It's tough being a Tiger. And I don't mean the Frosties one.

The dog, Daisy, kept walking in the way of us and sniffing anything dead or alive, as well as depositing things left, right and centre and up and down. No joke, I can tell you. Rosie says 'oowahohahha that's disgusting.'

In the evening we got a video out - Chocolat. Strange film, strange ending. Not bad though. It makes you want to eat chocolate a bit, and not live in France in the 1950s. And it just reminds you that gelled back hair looks like you've put your head in a deep fat fryer.