Oftentimes it is only when we step into country churches that we realise that our trainers have developed a squeak. We try to act detached from the squeak, but there it is a constant companion as we step over to read that intriguing bronze plaque. 'This one died in 1724!' you exclaim to your partner who will certainly be as interested as you in finding the first recorded dead person in the church. But then you venture forth, checking out a bit of apse or a section of nave and the squeak tells everyone else in the church keeping it quiet (like you're supposed to), that yes it is you making the noise. You needn't look around trying to work that out any more. Yes, it's me with the heretical trainers. Satisfied now?... (Continued at http://www.tinybangtheories.com/2012/04/squeaky-nikes.html)

Best Wishes,
Paul (Ed.)