ON THE SAME PAGE

Early Sunday evening I was struck down with the most terrible of afflictions for those of us in the media game - writer's block.

Ordinarily that's the time of week I gather my notes, one of Mrs P's world-famous-in-our-house cuppas and head for my office.

An hour or so later all the creative juices this two-finger typist can muster have done their job and you have a perfectly cooked column, just the way you like it, for breakfast a day or so later. You don't get it any sooner because NZME likes to keep it in the fridge to mature

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