I took the OH out to lunch the other day to celebrate his birthday. Although now I come to think of it, he paid. Well, it's the thought that counts, after all.

So we sat in my favourite restaurant on earth, the divine Hambrough Hotel in Ventnor; overlooking the sea, sipping a drink while we perused the menu. Just us, three other couples and a family of four celebrating the end of exams. Just quiet murmurs, sighs of contentment, the clink of cutlery and glasses ...

then Colonel Blimp arrived. He settled himself somewhere behind me. I realised later that he had two female companions, but only one of them managed to contribute to their conversation; the Colonel knew it all and said it all. The inescapable drone of a liver-spotted bore filled the room, which echoed to the sound of "It's disgraceful ..." We learnt his opinion on everything, from the weather, the government, Michael Jackson's musical ability, the probable winner of the tennis to the chef's choice of menu: Rabbit, according to Blimp, is always dry; plaice a nondescript fish, vegetarian options are for rabbits ...

Fortunately, the chef didn't gain the Island's first Michelin star by listening to Blimp; both plaice and rabbit were heavenly, a chocolate fondant pud beyond heavenly - I can't wait until the next special occasion.

Hopefully, liver won't be on the menu then.