Snape

It was the party for Snape volunteers tonight, and how proudly I wore my name badge with Aldeburgh Music stamped under my monicker. But the only other person wearing one was my friend Sammie, old campaigner of as many art exhibition invigilations as me. We strutted, we pouted, we posed, we bragged and we gloated, and next year EVERYONE has to wear theirs too. What goodie goodies we were, teacher's pets. "Oh I wish I'd worn mine," they all wailed. "I meant to tell them all to wear them," said the Boss. Brownie points showered upon us from music heaven. It was a great party, the most amazing food and decent wines too. We met the new uberboss, ex Radio 3 Controller Roger Wright, not a patch on the gorgeous, the utterly delectable Jonathan Reekie whom he's replaced (this picture doesn't do him justice, but phwaorrr anyway) but a decent enough cove.

On the way home I stopped off to see my bridge partner Helen who's been suffering from flu for nearly two weeks. Pink nose, squidgy eyes, puffy cheeks, croaky voice, but she insisted on hugging me. Are you still infectious, I asked nervously, and she said probably, and hugged me again. Oh, I've missed our bridge. She's completely outrageous, our Helen, doesn't care what she says or what effect it has on people, but she makes me laugh like nobody else. Get well soon Helen, for God's sake!