Now I have caught a cold, and I burnt my finger on a baking tray.
Fortunately I did not burn it very badly. My hands are so cold that it just went "fwoosh", as if my icy finger was cooling the tray.
Since the cold has apparently gotten into my bones, I imagine that my death is imminent. Pretty soon you'll be talking about "the John Allison legacy". I don't have a will, so I guess I'll leave everything to my friend Kelly Vivanco, and she can do what she wants with my chattels. Kelly, look forward to owning a right hand drive Japanese car, a terraced house in the armpit of civilisation, and two dozen "Just William" books. You earned 'em.