Eyoop, Just back from a jolly few hours near Rayners Lane, one of those strange burbs around the outskirts of the great metropolis. It was one of those nights where you're trying to play catch up, and several different strands of conversation are started and then left in mid sentence. My friend, a Miss World lookalike who met her man on Match.com, is a management consultant turned diamond dealer. We oohed and aahed over her faux David Morris: same designs, same artisans, same quality and half the price. Though we're still talking several thousand pounds more than you'd pay for a two carat twist in Argos. Or Costco. I don't understand women who boast that they've bought all their own jewellery as if this somehow makes them superior to those on whom jewels are gifted by men. Even if I had millions, the last thing I'd spend them on would be fripperies, but to receive a quality bauble as a gift is a great joy. It's not the value - a man will only spend as much as he can afford - it's the sentiment attached to the ritual of choosing and presenting;-) Got home and the girls were in bed. They've become so interesting lately, I was almost sad to have missed them. My mother was in the kitchen reading her way through our daily delivery of newspapers - The Mail, Guardian, Telegraph and Sun. Don't ask. She was agitated because the driver's mirror in her Skoda had fallen off - knocked by my eldest daughter's bottom as she climbed into the front passenger seat from the back. Don't arse. It had then been refitted upside down by the man in the petrol station where my mother stopped to ask for assistance after failing to fix it herself... I went to the car, and couldn't work it out either. Surely a mirror can only attach in one of two ways? Anyway, it provided an interesting moment of drama. She was mollified by a recycled yoghurt pot of home made mango pickle with which I'd returned home courtesy of my mate's ma, who is not very well and requires a lot of looking after, but still cooks four or five dishes a day. It was fabulous scoff, I have to say. I just hope I don't get heartburn in the night....