Greetings, global followers, and I hope you have had, or are in the process of having, a good day, depending on your time zone.

Pride, as whoever 'they' are, say, comes before a fall, and I knew that, this being the establishment that it is, that my own vain attempts at media manipulation would soon be surpassed by another. Sure enough, I had to wait only until yesterday morning for that to happen, and it was with great pleasure that I found myself scanning the pages of the Telegraph magazine when the family of Her Majesty's Consul-General in Iraq struck my retinae. I know I have a rule of not mentioning any names on this blog, but exception proves the rule from time to time, and as I know that you are a dedicated follower of my humble ramblings, ma'am, I hope you will not be offended by such an exception. I hope, too, that all is well out there.

The highlights of tonight's festivities here were a very interesting sermon about Fairtrade, followed by samples of what looked like vodka shots, as Mr BT said, but were in fact wine samples, accompanied by a number of rather curious canapes. Quite pleasant, nevertheless, and I was humbled by so many who treated me as if I had achieved celebrity status. I was, in fact, asked for my autograph in Summertown yesterday. - but it was Mrs Sheldon who asked, so that particular moment of self-indulgence falls at the final hoop. And the first one, really.

Hide and Seek seemed to be the order of the evening, with a number of the residents deciding that such a pastime would pass muster. It didn't, and that was that.

And so is this. So until tomorrow ....