If, like me, you're not much of a one for God-bothering, Easter Sunday can be the dullest day of the year. The shops are shut, so you can't relieve the boredom by pottering around Harrods. You can't even tool over to B&Q and browse through their latest range of gold plated taps. I could cut the grass, I suppose, but the Lawnflite's in need of a service, so best not to risk that either.
Things have got to the point where I'm seriously contemplating a trip to Broadstairs to watch men in Victorian bathing costumes play 'Hey Nonny No!' on Norwegian Tusselfloytes.