I don't know why I spend so many Friday nights collapsed on the sofa, believing myself to be exhausted from the demands of the week and preparing myself for the excesses ( currently consisting mainly of divine chocolate pud and more sofa-sitting) of the dawning weekend. Sophie showed me how easy it is to spend the evening sitting on uncomfortable chairs in a draughty village hall watching the creme of the local am dram group massacre a loosely-described comedy.

It was very well organised, almost militarily, we were shown to our seats, Sophie and I placed quite near the front on account of us both being rather short. It's a good job we hadn't taken someone like Jill with us, she's 6' 2" in her stockinged feet, and would never have been allowed to sit with us. It's an odd crowd that seems to frequent such places, invariably with incredibly unusual hair-dos that looked as if they had been borrowed from the props department of a 1970s sitcom. In fact I found the entire audience far more compelling watching than anything the small cast did on stage.

I had a reunion with one of my oldest friends from Infants yesterday. She lives in France now and I hadn't seen her for over 10 years. She'd called out of the blue last week. It was great to catch up, she hadn't changed save for her fluent French and rather wholesome demeanour. Her sister's still a Barbie doll though apparently so I'm reassured that some things never change.

Ali and Mrs Roger came over for a girlie dinner last night ( chocolate pud excuse no.28). It was really nice to get together again but it was not like old times. We were all falling asleep by about midnight ( apart from Mrs Roger who lives in a completely different timezone to the rest of the northern hemisphere) and drank more water than wine.

And today we finally managed to win a game - 56-0 against a bunch of Junior school kids by all accounts - still it's the winning that counts in rugby, not the taking apart.