There were times last week when I seriously doubted my ability to make it through to the weekend in one piece and at liberty. My psychological state, delicate at the best of times but already weakened by my Little Infestation Problem ( now, thankfully a mere memory and compost for this blog only) had taken a pounding from all the nasty seasonal bangs. I spent most of the weekend of 5 November hiding under my bed and only ventured out when the stock of discarded Digestives was exhausted, by then it was Wednesday.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of work, raffle-prize hustling, ticket-selling and plate-spinning, remarkably nothing broke. My new mate, Peter "Len" Martin delighted my neighbour Alice by delivering the signed tea-towel to her while I was at work. She's still calling everyone she ever met to tell them she had a celebrity at her house. Jack had his trousers taken up on his posh new dinner suit and chose a black jacquard tie to complete his look and I managed to remember to buy some new hold-ups for the occasion. I could really have done with an entire new outfit but funds were, by then, limited and you can't make a sow's purse out of a hog's arse or however the saying goes.

Anyway, the night was great. I definitely had the best table. The handsomest, funniest, drunkest, best connected ( no prizes for guessing who was who) and more to the point, Paige won the Woolpack Tea-Towel.

I vowed to myself all last week that I wouldn't do it again. This is the last year I kept telling myself. My resolve was remarkable. So when they told me they were planning it on 18 November next year - I put it in my diary and blanked out the 2 weeks leading up to it!