I know I say it every year, but backing the winner of the Grand National is so easy. Here’s how you compile your shortlist.

Horses with ‘Red’ in their name have a good record – like Red Alligator, Red Rum and Red Marauder. That’s a good sign for Captain Redbeard and maybe even Vieux Lion Rouge…

When I heard that all vehicles sold in Europe from 2022 onwards are set to have speed-limiting technology, my first thought was that I needed to buy a new car by 2021.

My second thought was that my current vehicle, a Landrover Defender, already has speed limiting technology. It’s called the ‘engine’ and it ensures that speed-limits can only be broken in built-up areas; even then, only if the roads are straight and slightly downhill.

They say that necessity is the mother of invention. Which is why, when the ring-pull came off my tin of dog-food, I decided to invent a new can-opener.

Shaped a bit like a log-splitting axe and about the same size as a log-splitting axe, my new can-opener works along similar lines to a log-splitting axe. So when I hit the top of the tin, it opened quite easily…

It’s been a week of intense debate. Deadlines have loomed, decisions have been made – some small victories and quite a few defeats. Two shuffles forward, two shuffles back. Now we’ve got to the end of the week and it’s STILL make-your-mind-up time.

What do we want? How much consideration do we need to give to the Irish?

I refer, of course, not to Brexit – but to the Cheltenham Festival…

The weary hand of old-ness is creeping upon my shoulder. I know this because it’s been pointed out to me that when concentrating on an important task, like carrying a coffee cup across the office, I have started to poke my tongue out of the side of my mouth.

Of course young people think this is terribly funny. By ‘young’ I mean anyone who can’t compare the relative merits of Wayward Lad to Desert Orchid, Kauto Star and Best Mate…

In The Archers, an everyday story of country folk, Home Farm and Brookfield will be sold to competing Arab Sheikhs, while Bridge Farm’s organic pastures will be rented by a National Hunt trainer who takes up residence at Lower Loxley Hall.

Kenton sets up a racing syndicate with the help of the Grundys, Shula becomes a Travelling Head Lass and Alistair could be disqualified from the veterinary profession having been accused of forging the vaccination details on the passport of Linda Snell’s Grand National entry.

That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m leaving the party and becoming independent just like Anna Such-and-such, Thingy Smith and Chuka Um-wotsit.

We staged a two horse race at Kelso last week and there were a few people who didn’t like the result. It was something to do with the fact that the horse everyone assumed would win at the start, wasn’t the same horse that won at the end. Maybe, if we ran the race again, we’d get a different result.

I have worked long enough in public relations to know that the media, be it television, radio, print or digital, thrives on two things: bad news and stories planted by people who want to sell stuff…

The reaction of some parents to an outbreak of chicken pox is to put all their children in one bedroom together. That way they all get the illness at the same time, gain immunity and move on with their lives.

This week I received an omen of great fortune. One of those happy events that made me realise that the fates are casting warm rays of benevolence in my direction.

No, it wasn’t a lottery win. I didn’t even find a ten pound note down the back of the sofa, although that has happened to me once and it was a great feeling. But not as good as this…