Less than a week but I'm picking up the threads of the British way of life again. I'm still occasionally saying pardon instead of sorry when I get in someone's way and I've twice found myself on the wrong side of the road but I have not been disloyal to the Queen.

Alan was here for the weekend and together with Siobhan we took in a Picasso exhibition and the film "When Did You Last See Your Father". In the film Colin Firth discovers on his father's death-bed that he wasn't such a bad old stick after all. I think the DVD will make an excellent Christmas gift, two in fact.

I had to leave Alan to his own devices on Sunday while I attended my first rehearsal for Wild Honey. In the absence of the director, delayed in Portugal with a bad leg, it could have been a shambles but it passed off remarkably well. I thought that perhaps it was a little early for talk of the actors gliding through the piece as though it were a Mozart symphony, but still.

Last night the director's leg had not yet reached home but under the self-deprecating leadership of Iain Kerr we blocked Act 2 and standing in for a number of absent actors I had fun exercising my range of funny voices.

I got home to the news of Ming Campbell's resignation. I said at the time of his election that he was too old and it seems that for once my political judgement was right. My advice to Ming is to enjoy his freedom of Scotland bus pass, his winter fuel allowance, his concession tickets to theatres and cinemas and the other sundry goodies on offer to oldies. Leave running the country (or in the Lib Dem's case not) to those who still have hair to pull out at the frustration of it all. How old is Gordon?

It's different in the theatre of course. Oldies still achieve. Witness Fiona's winning production at the Woking Drama Festival. Best out of 26 entries is pretty good. Will she similarly sweep aside the opposition at the English, or even British finals?