Over the last few days the rain has been intruding on our daily lives here in Darkest Wiltshire. Not a deluge, and no reason to expect flooding, just a series of heavy showers as the days wear on. The weather seems to have afflicted my old keyboard. The antiquated electronics are behaving in a strange manner, making the sound I get out of it something of a lottery.

Then there's the matter of the gas bill. If ever there was a lottery that is it. They seem to set the payments at random these days. My recent complaint to the supplier has borne fruit. The bill has been reduced to its former level. Phew. Now I can afford a curry this week.

My favourite curry house is something of a lottery too. Now they know me quite well. They should. I've been buying takeaways from that establishment for many years, and they smile and wave across the street at me these days. Should I approach them of an evening for a meal, they no longer ask what I want. "Lamb vindaloo, Sir?"

Ahhhh... No. Not today.

"Lamb biryani, vindaloo hot?"

Yes. That's what I want. The thing is though, although the meal is excellent and generally of the curry style, you never actually know what you're going to end up with. Of course it is a biryani, but the last one had mushrooms in it. Not that I mind, it's just I can't help feeling they're making do with whatever bowl of curry is standing idle. A bit of a lottery then?

Oh yes. Lottery tickets. I still pay for those,