How nice it is to be back at Piggott Place after spending the last few days with our dear friends, Lord and Lady Seymour-Clout. It is wonderful to see how the blogs have flourished and particularly gratifying to see Naq back in the fold.

Unfortunately, on our return, Lady P. has developed a rather nasty head cold which we think she contracted from the Clouts' butler, Alf Grimes (twin brother of my own butler, Sid Grimes) as he was coughing and spluttering all over the turtle soup on Monday evening. After sniffing and snorting his way around the table and leaving slime trails on his jacket sleeves, Lord Seymour-Clout was forced to send him to his quarters with strict instructions not to appear again until he is better.

It seems a shame that many more employers do not take Lord Seymour-Clout’s example and instruct employees who arrive at work in an obviously ill-state, to return home in order to prevent the rest of the workforce falling foul of these wretched bugs.

How many times have you gone to work and found yourself sitting next to a sniffing, coughing, shivering wreck, who should be at home in bed with a hot water bottle and a quarantine sign nailed to their bedroom door?

You just know that, in a matter of days, you too will be suffering the same symptoms but feel guilty about telephoning in sick because the brave soul who passed their germs onto you made it in, so perhaps you really should make the same effort.

Utter madness! What the hell do people think sick-pay was invented for?

Fair enough for the self-employed and those martyrs who work for selfish, stingy employers who do not provide sick-pay, but for those who enjoy the privilege of being paid whilst off sick, why do they not take advantage of the fact and keep their stinking colds at home?

The British seem to have a strange disregard for colds and, instead of shutting themselves away until they have recovered, insist on travelling by public transport and smearing their snotty, germ-infested hands over handrails, door handles and seats.

And let's not forget the contaminated money they pass over for their morning newspapers and polystyrene cups of coffee, or the projectile coughs and sneezes (spread diseases) they so much like to share with fellow commuters.

In their places of work, these infected ‘heroes’ continue to spread their diseases via telephone receivers and computer keyboards, not overlooking contamination of the drinks machine as they gather hot water for their Lemsips, naturally.

Then, an hour before they are due to go home, these gallant spreaders of viruses make a trip to their bosses to inform them that though they have struggled on all day, they feel they can no longer go on and must make their way home. They are then not seen for the next couple of days because they are told not to return to work until they are better.

In the meantime, how many people have been infected as a result of the selfish actions of these ‘cold martyrs’?

Greedy bosses and bum-licking managers should make it a policy that cold and ‘flu sufferers stay at home, even if it means visiting the doctor for a sick note as proof.

Alternatively, let us take a leaf out of Japan’s book and insist that cold-sufferers wear surgical masks in public.

As for Lady P.’s sniffles, Your Lord is taking no chances. She has been issued with a gas mask, leather gauntlets and diving suit and sent to the Small Room until all her symptoms are gone.

Strange how she didn’t object …

Erastus