Last weekend I attended the wedding of my best friend's daughter. It was held at a really fancy country club and when I first arrived I thought I might have been in the wrong part of the club / at the wrong wedding as there was a string trio playing Vivaldi - but then I saw a bunch of cat rescue people and knew I was in the right place!

I wore heels, as you do, and I was surprised to find how awkward I was, teetering along like a tipsy giraffe. I must have looked drunk; towards the end of the night my friend was asking if I was all right to drive home, as I was clutching onto the railing going down the steps and generally feeling quite unstable. I used to wear heels every day at work, but since changing jobs three years ago I haven't bothered. (well that's not *quite* true; I wore heels for the first week, then realised I was the only person there who wasn't wearing ballet flats or runners, so gave up on the heels after that!).

My eyebrows have gone silver; well, more salt and pepper, heavy on the salt. When did that happen? I only just noticed tonight.

I was amused tonight to discover that Australia is the Quiddich World Champion team. Yeah, there you go. Old news, but new to me.

My favourite cartoon - First Dog on the Moon - excelled itself yesterday. This guy is a master of sarcasm. (and if you don't know who the Budgie Nine are, don't worry you are not missing anything!)