Emlyn's latest update: Tuesday, 28th July, 2015.

Good afternoon everybody.

This is me in my kitchen getting ever so slightly impatient with the time it is taking my slave to prepare my meal. 

It's a right faff I can tell you and it's all because of that blessed lady that does those diabolical things to my body wot lives at the 'Big House' - you know, that place I can't stand going to.

Any road up, she reckons my recovery will be much quicker if I am fed raw lamb's liver.

"Raw!' I ask you. I'm not having any of that. Far too sophisticated for that.

And whilst I'm on about it, I don't like lamb's liver. Tried it, didn't like it.

So having got those messages across - which wasn't easy, my slaves are a bit slow on the uptake - I now enjoy a tasty repast of lightly fried pigs liver, finely chopped, and served with a dash of hot water.

Makes a nice change from all the usual shredded chicken and fishy-things they normally give me.

And it's helping with my…ahem…'regularity' an' all, so it's all good.

That's it woman. Stick it in me bowl.

Now, stop fussing me and let me get on with it.

Hmmm, yummeee!

BSB on Freeview, Sunday, 19th July, 2015.

As Vicky works hard in the kitchen de-icing the freezer her two fellas have settled down to watch the rare delight of some live BSB on Freeview.

And yes, the action is so gripping we are both fast asleep before the third race and only wake up again halfway through the fifth.

Oh well, as we all know, nowt's as good as actually being there of course.

Birchmoor, Saturday, 18th July, 2015.

We've driven up to Pat and Graham's to meet the latest addition to Vicky's family - third cousin George -  who's just 5 weeks old. 

There's not many on Vicky's side of the family so each rare new arrival gets the full treatment.

In this splendid 'action shot' Vicky gently rubs his tummy and George sends another 'rippler' through the very fabric of the settee.

These bees are doing summat…….but what? Near The Pumphouse, Worcester, Wednesday, 16th July, 2015.

As I was heading back home on my usual morning constitutional I came across these four bees in a scrimmage on the footpath. So I stopped and took a photo (as you do).

As I was doing so a chap about my age (there's a lot of us about) on a 'bike stopped and we proceeded to debate what it might all signify.

We concluded it was either something to do with the Queen or the mating season but, basically, we agreed that we were clueless having never seen such a thing before.

One bee eventually flew off and we left the remaining three to get on with whatever it was they were doing and went our separate ways.

Having looked up some possibilities on Google this afternoon it appears that they might have been killing each other to improve their chances of mating. However, as this was from an article relating to Aussie bees (and I think we all know what an extreme bunch of buggers Aussie wildlife tend to be) I think we should take that explanation with a large pinch of salt when applying it to the wildlife of our Sceptred Isle which always act with great decorum (oh yes). And, in any case, I was always told that when bees sting it causes them to die so if they are stinging one another they are committing suicide, aren't they? Oh it's all too bizarre.

Anyway, anyone who knows any better explanations please send yer answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Chateau Impney Hill Climb, Droitwich, Saturday 11th July, 2015.

We now have a 'brand new' olde motorsport venue (established in 1957 and used in the '50's and '60's) just 8 miles from our front door. 

We bought our tickets in advance some time ago so we are hoping we'll be lucky with the weather.

It's just gone eleven and this is the car park which is already filling up nicely.

Our faithful Lancer is somewhere down the bottom of the field. 

If we were any further away we'd be on the other side of the M5 (which you can see if you look carefully beyond that hedgerow).

Just walked through the gates at the rear of the Chateau and getting our bearings.

It's amazing how much infrastructure the organisers have put in place for the weekend. 

Large TV screens and all sorts, plus metalled roads for traffic to use into the car parks in case it rains, and traffic lights to control traffic leaving onto the A38, and so on.

Sarah Diffey and her Bugatti Brescia at Corbett Chicane.

Proper grandstands and everything. 

Eat yer heart out Donington Park Pt I.

It's approaching midday and we've found the Paddock.

Howard is genning-up on how to restore very olde things.

The Regent Exhibition area under a big sky.

Spot Vicky and win a prize.

Well-gone 12 now and we need a cuppa tea. 

The shortest queues are in the H&H Auction building.

The tea's not the best but it is very welcome.

Drinking our tea and looking down on the auction.

Don't go down there. You only have to twitch an eyebrow at the wrong moment and you'll be the proud owner of a Chevron B23/M63 sports car worth £250,000 before you know it.

Best head back outside to the paddock then.

Smell the roses and look at the cars in the paddock or 

look at the cars in the paddock and smell the roses, you decide.

Olde fella makes a beeline for a Lotus Cortina MkI.

Proper grandstands and everything.

Eat yer heart out Donington Park Pt II.

Jim Payne - Fairley Mercury - at The Paddock Esses.

This nice lady is selling pies, sausage rolls, and pasties and nowt costs more than £2.

It would be rude to pass by without purchasing summat.

So we push the boat out and buy a pasty between us.

And, yes, it was scrummy.

Gas it! Gerrit-gerrit? Eh, eh?

It's now about 1:30 and we're back on the 'outside' of the hill as Nikki Cottrill in her Lotus 51A heads towards the finish line.

We're walking down the hill now towards the food court near the start.

Vicky gets a nice shot of a car speeding past the Chateau but we can't linger long - 

we need our din-dins.

We've had a steak sammidge from Checketts of Ombudsley's stall (we are regulars at their shop) between us and now Vicky is proving she can hold two cups of tea and a bag with lemon drizzle cake inside it at the same time as walking in a straight line.

The tea (and cake) was from the Avoncroft Tea Room stall and is vastly superior to the one we had earlier. Something tells us it won't be the last one we buy from here.

A shot of some cars lined up at the start - taken whilst our tea cools down a bit.

With lunch over we decide to walk back up the hill a touch and as we cross the bridge over the River Salwarpe we are pleased to see that Mother Duck and her offspring (we counted 8 in total) appear to be doing well. She enquired whether we had any bread but, as usual, we didn't. 

Sorry, just eaten it with our steakwich.

Proper grandstands and everything. Donington Park eat yer heart out Pt III.

It's about 2:30 now and this is Richard Scaldwell in his De Dietrich at Ravens Crest.

700 revs….750 revs….800 revs….850 revs……….into second!

The fire-breathing 'Beast of Turin' (28.5 litre, 4 cylinder Fiat S76 built in 1910) thunders up the hill.

It's driver, Duncan Pittaway, apologised for not having the car set up for maximum flames but I think we can safely say that we got the drift.

At 3:00pm bang-on it's the turn of Rich Goodwin and his Pitts Special S2S 'Muscle Biplane' to entertain the crowds below.

Not being pilots we don't know how skilful flying a 'plane like a crab at 45 degrees is.

Looked pretty impressive to us.

With the time rapidly approaching 4:00pm we've had another cuppa tea and it's time to walk up the hill and back to the car park taking photos on the way as we go.

By the time we get back to the car it is 4:15 and it's just a mile drive to Waitrose for the week's 'Big Shop'. 

It's been a lovely day's sport. Fantastically well organised and very spectator-friendly with lovely warm weather (at times too warm). I'm not sure we saw everything on offer but we did our best.

Just shows what can be done when the local council, a local hotel in lovely grounds, and a club work in harmony together to create a veritable mini-Festival of Speed in the heart of Worcestershire.

The date for 2016 has already been announced and, needless to say, it is in our diary.

By just gone 5 we are back home to check up on Emlyn to see how he is progressing and to give him a feed. It's the first time we have left him on his own since his op. 

He's making steady progress, we're glad to say.

Another of Emlyn's updates: Friday 3rd June, 2015.

I've had the results of the biopsy on the tumour they removed from my liver and it was cancerous, so it's a good job they took the cowin' thing out. I'll be on painkillers for the rest of me life for the arthritis in my spine and I am very anaemic which is why I can't be arsed to move me arse much.

But, as the sun is shining brightly this morning, I thought I'd risk getting off the settee to sit in the sun and warm me naked and magnificently scarred (oh yes) belly.

It's a good spot down here 'cos I can keep an eye on the kitchen worktops to check whether any juicy tit bits might be materialising. There's always hope.

Aha! I thought I might be in luck.

Note how I'm still too weak to bend down to my food bowl.

Mind you, that's why one employs ones slaves.

The big-fella has still got a morbid fascination for my naked belly. If you look closely you can see the scar. It's a 5-incher at least. It shows how brave I am and makes me even more adorable than ever, evidently, so it's a win-win.

I've heard on the grapevine that I've gotta go back to the Vets on Monday to have the stitches out.

Have I mentioned that I don't like going to the Vets?