Seems we might be Macca'ed next Sunday if I can manage the satphone and talk at the same time - Shades of Gerald Ford and chewing gum.
In the interests of science - I get (and not everybody does) what's called a photic sneeze whenever I get out into the sunlight for the first time in a while - comes from nowhere, big blast and it's gone. WW2 Spitfire pilots used to dread it apparently as they emerged from cloud into bright sunlight and needed absolute concentration to see the Messerschmitt. I've noticed that after consultation with Dr Murphy at breakfast, both Pete and I seem to sneeze in similar fashion. Possibly mine might be delayed photic but this morning, definitely two separate events. A Murphic sneeze perhaps? What is the evolutionary advantage of this? Or are we due to become statistical relics?
There are, of course, always (at least until one runs out) two Murphys sailing along with us. The excellent consultant from Cork represents the ephemeral element and the other one is The Lawyer - he who says that if it can go wrong it will - the first law of statistics in Berri. Paraphrased without elegance but proper brevity as 'shit happens'.