I suppose tea and cake doesn't sound quite so good, but I no longer drink and so my Champagne Friend and myself have taken to meeting at the Wolseley and catching up with each other's news before window-shopping in the West End of London.
Janet Street Porter was just leaving, her cap of shiny pink hair a beacon of good health and independent living; Miranda Hart sat at a table looking very happy, with Patricia Hodge amongst her company.
We ate onion soup and Battenburg cake (Champagne Friend) and an omelette and coffee cake (moi).
It's a perfect treat; afterwards we walked down Bond Street looking at the twinkling lights and the even-more-twinkling jewels, and went to Liberty's to look at the baubles in their Christmas shop.
We each bought one. Mine was so fantastically lurid that I shall have to take a picture of it.
I have two days of work before I head to the frozen north for the Christmas Scottish gigs in Glasgow and Edinburgh. Martin is heading to Aberdeen today, meeting up with band members from all over the country.
Right now, I have to go and pick up McMum's Norwegian cardigan from the dry cleaner's. It's a vintage one that I bought from eBay, and I'm a bit worried in case she thinks I've just given her some old second-hand thing. But I remember being dressed from thrift shops as a child, actually, so perhaps the wheel has turned full circle!