when a man is tired of the ashes he is tired of life and there have been many times today when, sick with caffine and irritated by some passing trifle, i have walked around the house with a book in my hand rather than watch or listen. i am tempted to write some rather unsavoury things about matthew hayden. insted i will content my self with saying that saturday is a curates egg in the ear and that i am rather disinclined to read any more books by ian macuan excpet perhaps his first. nice to be reminded of playing squash though.