So where better to begin than with the arrival of Lisa, who was in the big smoke mostly to hang out with yours truly, and partly to attend the opening of an exhibition of children’s artwork which was unveiled by His Royal Highness/Camilla's squeeze, Prince Charles (“Massive bald patch…got the comb-over job thing going”, says Lisa who papped him with her camera even though she wasn’t allowed to), as well as a guest appearance by one of her idols, Quentin Blake.Phew, that was a mouthful! Quentin (unless you’re a deprived child of the noughties who’s never been near a book) famously illustrated all of Roald Dahl’s children’s books (grandpa of the absolutely fugly model Sophie). Lisa gushed after, “Och! You just want him to be your grand-dad – such a lovely, sweet, old man” (or words to that effect).

Conversation on old(er) men soon took a twist as it became apparent that I am missing the Don of all newsreaders, Jon Snow. I wonder if he still remembers me? How I wait in hope that I may bump into him again and how I just found out he doesn’t live many miles from me. I know he’s not married, which means the impossible may just be possible…I could become Mrs Sheenie Snow. Imagine that! Yeah, I’m bored of my crush on Robert Lyndsay, I’m going to up the ante and move onto Jon. He’s so nice, and he grabbed my wrist – the naughty man.

Well, Lisa was moaning that she hadn’t bumped into anyone famous in London (only seen look-alikes – a great Jarvis Cocker one at the exhibition!), so we went on a quest to find one…or just to find Jon Snow as well as squeeze in some sight-seeing and shopping. My heart skipped a beat when she squealed, “Look! Jon Snow!” in Soho (ooh, that rhymes), only for her to be pointing at a sandwich board outside a pub named John Snow. As you can see from this week’s editorial photo, that is proof (but the website doesn’t seem to work). Not quite in the honour of ‘Snowy’ (it’s spelt differently too), it was nonetheless one of our highlights of the day (which is quite worrying, come to think of it).