We're at Julie's house, watching the final of Strictly Come Dancing and feeling incredibly pleased that Harry won. It's been a somewhat eventful day, which started with pie and mash in Camden.
We went to Julie's house via Central London and had an afternoon of craft and cake whilst listening to manic oboe music.
We were joined by Jess, who was knitting a very complicated jumper, and Julie's cleaner, Zeneb, who was knitting a tiny pair of booties and speaking to everyone in German.
Zeneb left the room at one point and, as she went down the stairs, I heard a muffled rattle, followed by a couple of coughs and a sigh, which were barely louder than the tapping of knitting needles in the room.
About a minute later we heard Zeneb's voice; "Julie! Hilfe! Hilfe"
I rushed out of the room and found Zeneb in a little heap half way down the stairs, whimpering like an animal trapped in a snare. It was a very upsetting sight. She'd obviously had a very nasty fall and was in a great amount of pain.
For the next hour, Julie and Sam held her hand as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. We were told not to move her or give her pain killers until the medics arrived. Sadly, they couldn't prioritise her, because she was conscious, so the wait was excruciating.
When they finally arrived, she was given laughing gas (a slightly comic sound) and carted off to hospital. Julie went with her. Six hours later, we discovered that she'd badly torn the ligaments in her knee and been sent home with two paracetamol and a pair of crutches. Poor woman!
Julie's Christmas tree has real candles on it, which is such a treat. I've felt Christmassy for the first time this year, despite the terrible drama.
350 years ago, Pepys went to Mr Savill the painter to see how his portrait was progressing. He then trundled off to the Privy Seal office where he was kept waiting for hours, much to his chagrin.