IT’S a bit strange going out on Monday night isn’t it?

But this week I and my fellow members of Felixstowe’s Lighthouse book club got all doled up and went along to the Orwell Hotel to celebrate the wedding of our member Lucy, who has tied the knot.

It was a giggle.

I wore a suit after a discussion at work with my fun loving colleague Jane, who said I needed to look smart for the occasion.

Anyway I had a couple of white wines and found myself on the dance floor at 9pm twisting some shapes to Simply The Best with Deborah, who likes Shakespeare, and Susan, who enjoys Dickens.

After the quiche-free buffet – we had a ploughman’s instead – I had a couple more drinks and toddled off home in time for the fag end of Book At Bedtime.

Talking of fag ends, I have given up smoking – yet again.

At the time of writing and thanks to a handy smoke free phone application I have managed 36 days and 14 hours 11 minutes and 41 seconds.

For a couple of days I wore a patch but then I just didn’t bother and went on will power alone. Of course I’m eating like a horse and it has made me irritable and depressed though, equally, that could be down to one, some or all of the usual things we blame for everything that goes wrong – the recession/government/Jimmy Savile/travellers/reality TV/horsemeat, and being left to die in hospitals.

Anyway, life is much easier without the fags so I am determined to keep going.

Meanwhile the weather is getting better and my bulbs are coming through in the pots on the balcony of my flat with sea views (distant).

In a few short weeks the clocks will go back and we’ll be thinking about getting a new pair of slacks and eating salads.

Spring, dear readers, is coming and it can’t come soon enough.

I don’t know about you but I am ready to say good bye to the dark days of winter.