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To Aldershot last night for the Mayor of Rushmoor's Ball. On our way through reception, two ladies behind a table asked if we'd like to order a bottle of wine. My mother, after turning down my suggestion of Cava as it was £19.95, shelled out £11.95 for a bottle of rosé, then as soon as we were out of earshot of the ladies, confided to me she was a little put out that we weren't getting free wine like at most civic dos. We went to the bar where I got a London Pride, then noticed people were starting to move into the hall so we followed them.

It was ever so posh in the Princes Hall. We were at a table with Pat the County Vice-Chairman, who was delighted to see me - and asked if I'd dance with her, as she was on her own - Brian from Hart, Warwick and Carol the Basingstoke deputies, and the Deputy Mayor and Mayoress of Rushmoor. Much to my mother's chagrin, there were two bottles of wine provided, but we enjoyed our rosé anyway and it left more of the two free bottles for the others.

The evening opened with a demonstration by kids from a school of Irish Dance in Aldershot, then we had a lovely melon fan for starter. Next was a demonstration of drumming by children from a Farnborough junior school, followed by the main course, succulent supreme of chicken wrapped in bacon, with baby roast potatoes, new potatoes, carrots, beans and peas. There were ample quantities of all the veg, so I got plenty of spuds (the roast ones were just perfect), but Carol, next to me, went easy on the food. She said she was dieting; I told her she didn't need to, which earned me her gratitude but didn't persuade her to chow down any more.

My mother mentioned to the Deputy Mayor of Rushmoor that I'd been staying up all through the night to listen to the cricket; that drew comments from all the men at the table that that had been a waste of time, that I was a glutton for punishment, and the like. I pointed out that we'd lost the First Test last year and still gone on to win the series, but all the others remained convinced that this time we'll be leaving the Ashes behind in Oz.

Next came a 'Lucky Table' draw - a table number was drawn at random, followed by a prize number, until each table had a prize. We got a bottle of Scotch, then to decide which of the eight people at each table got the prize, the MC announced that it would go to the person at each table whose birthday was nearest to that of Margaret the Rushmoor Mayoress. At our table that turned out to be my mother; she said she'd put the whisky in a future raffle of her own. There she goes again.

Dessert was a Brandy Snap Basket with guava, kiwi fruit and pineapple, topped off with Malibu Mascarpone - very nice, though I couldn't taste the difference between the Mascarpone and whipped cream. After that came Reverse Bingo - everyone bought a bingo card for £5 and we all stood up. Then numbers were called, and if any of the numbers on your card came up you were out of the game and sat down. I lasted longer than anyone else on our table, but then 19 was called and I was knocked out, only a few numbers before the end.

After the reverse bingo was an auction. Half a dozen or so lots all went for £80 or more; next up was a brand new kid's bike. My mother opened the bidding at £60, thinking someone was sure to overcall her, but no sod did so she was stuck with the bike. Everyone told her what a bargain she had - the bike was worth £160 - but she, flabbergasted, was only concerned with whether the damn thing would fit in the boot of the Mayoral car.

On the way back from the loo I passed the table where Charles and Agnieszka from the Isle of Wight were sitting, and stopped for a quick hello. As I took my leave of them, Agnieszka said "Dance later"...

Cheese and biscuits followed, then coffee and mints, and a little glass of port was brought round for the toast. The commander of the Aldershot garrison made a brief speech and proposed the toast 'The Borough', and John the host Mayor made a speech in reply - sliding in a reference to his beloved Aldershot Town FC making the second round of the cup. (Sorry, whalefish, he didn't mention Rushmoor's other football team all evening...)

We popped out into the foyer and got talking to Robin and Felicity the Deputy Mayor and Deputy Mayoress of Portsmouth and Peter from Eastleigh; it didn't take those three long to start putting local government to rights, while we just stood listening and nodding most of the time. On the way back to the hall we met John and Pam from Fareham on their way out; John made valiant but doomed attempts to persuade my mother to part with her Scotch. On hearing about my mother buying the bike, many people made cracks about my having to ride it home. (We were 60 miles from home, it was the middle of the night, and it was pissing down outside.)

We sat in the hall for a little while talking to Pat, and Brian and Audrey from East Hants, while a band played on stage - the excellent female singer was belting out a spirited rendition of Rod Stewart's Maggie May. It was 11.40pm now; although the ball wasn't due to end till 1am, my mother wanted to leave, as she had her Charity Christmas Coffee Morning to host today. That suited me just fine, as the dancing had only just begun, so I was spared disappointing either Pat or Agnieszka with my two left feet.

So we phoned John our driver, then went to say goodbye to John and Margaret our hosts and collect the bike. My mother told John she wasn't sure if it would go in the boot of the Mayoral car, and John said she could leave it there and have it collected another day if it wouldn't. When we came down the front steps carrying it, John the driver looked like he was about to have kittens; after my mother had explained the story to him, he managed to get it in the boot and secure it, but the boot wouldn't quite go all the way down. No matter, John was satisfied we could do the drive like that, so we set off.

My mother told us she'd offer the bike for sale on the Town Hall intranet. Then it was time for Test Match Special, which John and I listened to all through the drive home while me ma flickered in and out of sleep. On the road out of Aldershot into Farnham, a car passed us in the outside lane; as it went by its three passengers merrily waved to us. I waved back, wondering at first if they had been at the ball, but no, they were just drunken strangers. I mused that the young lady in the front seat seemed the nice friendly type; John immediately said that if it wasn't for the not-fully-closed boot meaning he had to keep his speed down, he'd have gone after them for me to meet her - "I'll get you married off yet"...

We got home, with the boot and the bike still intact, just as the shipping forecast began. I dashed indoors, put the front room radio on and listened to the whole forecast, while my mother went straight to bed; when they went back to the cricket, Freddie Flintoff had just got out for a duck. That was enough for me to hit the hay.

Woken by my radio alarm, I punched the air in celebration when the newsreader said Scott had been evicted from I'm A Celeb. At the Coffee Morning I was pressed into book stall service again, so had to hump seven cardboard boxes full of books from upstairs to the hall, then load them into my mother's car, then unload them into the Town Hall. My mother insisted I bring my Cockney Christmas CD, and put it on repeat play throughout the morning. I stayed stood up most of the time, idly reading the odd book from my stall during lulls, but finally dropped into a chair for the final hour. I sold quite a few books, taking over £12 in the end. The parents' friend John and a couple of other people remarked to me on a photo in last night's News, showing my mother, me and a few of the guests in our Medieval costume last week. Dot the nonagenarian fund-raiser was there, greeting me as her "little friend", but today a handshake from me satisfied her :) At 12.30 my mother gave all us stall volunteers the order to pack up our stuff, then she went and drew the raffle while we were packing. Once I'd packed all the unsold books back into boxes, it was time to ... hump them back down the stairs. At least once I'd carted six of my boxes down there, plus one of Gran's, John the driver was on hand and offered to take the last box. And then it was 1pm and, as agreed, I said goodbye and headed for Havant & Waterlooville v Team Bath, leaving someone else the task of loading the boxes back into the car.

At Portsmouth Harbour station the ticket clerk said to me "I didn't recognise you without your medieval get-up".

Walking along the road towards Westleigh Park, I saw Jenna D coming the other way. "Game's off," she said to me. Waterlogged pitch. Fair do's, it had been absolutely bucketing down all morning. Having come all that way, I wasn't going to trudge back to Gosport without calling at the clubhouse for a pint. On my way in, I met the programme girl, who told me the game would be played on Tuesday night. Rats - my mother and I are at the Gosporteers' Christmas Dinner then, we both accepted the invitation months ago, and their secretary was at the coffee morning and told me how much he's looking forward to seeing us both there. No way I can get out of that one. Just then I spotted Simon, told him I couldn't make it Tuesday and asked if I could buy a programme now; as he was just going to lock up the club shop anyway, I followed him there and he sold me one.

And so to the clubhouse for a Magners and a chat with some other Hawks fans who'd also come there only to be left at a loose end. One lad still didn't know the game was off until I told him, poor sod.

Then trudged back to Gosport. By the time I got off the train to take the ferry, it had started raining again.

In the evening we were guests at the 'Just Kids' show. On the way there, when my mother asked what the show was I said "Sleeping Beauty," as I vaguely seemed to remember it being that. Arron, our driver, immediately said "I thought it was Humpty Dumpty". That rang a bell and I conceded he was probably right. He was. Doh.

Eddie, the producer, warned us before the show began that 'the script went out of the window a bit' at the afternoon performance, so probably would again. "I don't know just what they're doing now," he confessed. "As long as they're having a good time," I smiled, as Just Kids has never taken itself seriously. Their ethos has always been that the kids just get on stage and enjoy themselves. Sure enough, the show was shambolic, but it didn't matter - the kids were clearly having the time of their lives on that stage, and even if it wasn't my personal cup of tea, they were putting all their hearts into it and clearly dedicated to just putting on a fun show. All respect to them. I won a kid's 'Madagascar' backpack in the raffle, and gave it to my mother for her to raffle. At the end my mother was called on to present the cast and crew with awards and say a few words, then as the crowd dispersed Eddie came down to say goodbye to us, and we emerged out front - to find the car wasn't there yet. It was only 8.55, a full 20 minutes before the estimated finish time Arron had been given.

So we stood and waited. I switched on my phone to find two texts from Jade about X Factor ("Ray is shite lol"), so texted back explaining that I was out at a function so would be watching the late night ITV2 repeat. Arron showed up at 9.05. When we got home my father had The Xtra Factor on the telly and was about to tell me who was up for eviction; I said "I'm watching the repeat, don't tell me who's up, don't tell me who's up," charged up the stairs and switched my own telly on just in time to hear the end of the intro music of I'm A Celeb...