As for most people, there are many mundane minutes of my life that hum, in the background, to the lyrics of my diary. They’re the boring bits. I don’t want to tell you everything, like in a reality TV show, aka Big Brother. But I don’t want to give you the impression that I have a 100% charmed life either, or you will end up hating me.

That’s the problem with Facebook. Everyone puts their best foot, usually manicured, forward. You don’t see ‘friends’ loading the dishwasher, sorting laundry, doing admin, stuck in traffic, walking the dog, shopping for food, yelling at their children or partner. The groundhog day stuff. That is the stuff of most people’s lives, and mine is no exception.  Or the events that make your heart stop and your throat constrict. Really bad news. Job loss, chronic illness, death, heartbreak and disappointment.

The Classical Concert and Tea for Older People was a success yesterday at HTB, Onslow Square (you can find details on the HTB Church website). Derek Paravicini performed on the piano. He is known as the ‘human ipod’; look out for him on YouTube. Although being severely autistic and blind, he has thousands of pieces stored in his brain, and like a jukebox and without rehearsal, he can play them perfectly.

The concerts have been running for almost six years, six times a year. I joined the committee when I lived in Chelsea. There is a core committee – slightly older than me – of pheasants. Their habitat is Chelsea and Fulham. Adjectives like selfless, honest, charming, moral, wise and hard-working come to mind. Good C of E women.

This modest type of pheasant doesn’t like the limelight. No – this sort of pheasant is low key and longs to blend in with the undergrowth. They are understated by nature. For ages, I didn’t know that one was a Lady So and So.

Aristocrats, when you meet them, introduce themselves by their Christian names. I stood beside Viscount Chelsea at Harrow School once, and he told the registrar to call him Ed.  Commoners who marry titles are not necessarily of the same ilk. I am sure, though, that Kate says, “Call me Kate,” when off duty.

Slightly blurry, but here I am presenting to our audience, including the Chelsea Pensioners.

Hugh Bonneville, Lord Grantham in Downton Abbey, was on Desert Island Discs, on Radio 4, last weekend. Do you remember the scene in Notting Hill? Hugh Bonneville is Bernie, Charlie’s friend, played by Hugh Grant. At a dinner party he meets Anna, a film star played by Julia Roberts, who is really playing herself. Out of context, Bernie doesn’t recognise Anna/Julia.  Whilst he is stuffing his face with nibbles, he asks her what she does for a living. She tells him that she’s an actress. It is only when he asks her how much she’s paid and she replies, “Fifteen million dollars,” that he recognises her. The penny drops.

I was at a fundraising lunch meeting for the Chelsea Academy, a non-private High School, when a similar thing happened. It was a different group of pheasants this time.

This cool guy wandered in; he was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. He sat down next to one of the pheasants. I almost fell off my seat. Here was one of the heroes of my teens and twenties. She turned to him politely during the light lunch of sole and roasted vegetables, and she asked him, “And what do you do?” He replied, with a cheeky grin, “A little bit of music and photography.” She said, “Good for you.”

After he left, I turned to my elegant, neighbouring pheasant and asked her, “Do you know who that was? It was Bryan Adams. You know the one that wrote Summer of 69 and the theme tune to Robin Hood with Kevin Costner, Everything I do. That guy.”

She grimaced with embarrassment. 

Mr Adams turned out to be very supportive of the Academy, as he lived in Chelsea. My children, then in their teens, were waiters at an event at his home. Mr Adams was fantastic with the junior waiters, all children of committee members. 

The children with Bryan Adams. 

Today I have a charity dinner for International  Justice Mission, so we have to stay up in London  for Friday night, which is out of our routine. At lunchtime, I am having lunch with another Aussie Sheila, posted to London, Gill.