Can a day get any better?

Wilf has started his day on a high note - as we set off from the house on the morning walk he quickly found a partially eaten boiled egg left behind by one of the builders . After four days in the sun it must have just reached that gourmet level of canine putresence.By the time we noticed he was lagging behind the appetising article had been swallowed , leaving only a tell tale trail of small egg shell pieces as a clue to its existence. Naturally, the horrid day-glo plastic starfish with the annoying ( and miraculously still functioning ) squeaker joined us on the morning excursion.At this time in the morning the only sound , apart from the wheezing starfish, was the breeze rustling the leaves on the ash trees along the driveway.
The Italian morning news covered the Swine flu epidemic in great detail on its six o'clock bulletin. It can be said that faced with the choice between a cold factual appraisal of the outbreak or a burst of hypocondriacal hyperbole the media here has chosen the latter approach.I would expect the lines at the doctors surgeries here to be stretching round the block this morning amid stories of civilisation in the America's coming to a grinding halt.