Well Dear Reader, it looks like the threatened storm has passed.This morning I had a telephone conversation with Queen Elizabeth - she of the next-door neighbours. I had dreaded this call, and had expected a right royal (sic) rí rá agus ruaile buaile, but she was in stitches laughing over the whole thing. I had forgotten her sense of humour, and it also appears that our past collaborations stood me in good stead."Good Heavens" she said, "What sort of an eejit are you at all at all Murphy?""Mutter, mutter", I replied." Philip and We were helpless with laughter when we saw your letter"."Liz", he said, when We saw you hadn't responded, "begob I think Murphy is pulling a Brian O'Driscoll - surely he isn't playing a match too!""No chance", chuckled We, "Her Ladyship would kill him". "True" chortled Philip.Not for the first time I was relieved I haven't got one of these new-fangled EYE-phones which would (or so I am informed) have allowed them to see my blushes."Anyhow", said ER, "We will be coming over for a visit shortly, and will pop in for a quick mug of brew, if you are at home"."Excellent", I replied, "Her Ladyship shall have a chance to wear her new hat after all"."Oh, by the way", she added, "for God's sake lock up that bloody bodhrán of Ernst's before We arrive"On that friendly note the call ended.Ernst called OEIG's Department of External Affairs to put their minds at rest (at the cost of only one life *) and we retired to the Study for a well earned glass of port.Regards,Ruaidhrí* apparently when Ernst informed the chappie at External Affairs that I had been chatting with ER, the chap got the wrong end of the stick entirely, and decided to end it all by jumping from a first floor window. This did NOT kill him - that happened because, suffering no more than a sore ankle, he decided to brush his jacket off, not noticing the Number 72 bus. Silly fellow. We have, of course, sent flowers.