Yesterday's champagne and Aga eats were a real treat. Mrs Moneypenny delivered exactly what she had promised.

In an audience comprising Mr and Mrs Alastair and Maggie Darling (she helped with the cooking, he's on a diet - according to her - but I didn't see him take any of the snacks - I was sitting behind him); Susan Rice; folk with titles; and a lot of Edinburgh's other suited financial whizzers, the Financial Times columnist gave a sparkling rendition of what she does in her weekly slot. Lashings of humour with a thread of serious message running cleverly throughout.

Women should not expect to do it all but there is no glass ceiling - just recognise where you need help and what to outsource. Accordingly, as she was wearing around £1,000 of couture and a beautiful spray brooch couriered thence by Aspreys, she got Richard to help with the cooking. Cost centre 1 (aka eldest son Robert) to put the pizza in the aga oven and cost centre 3 (aka Angus or youngest son) to help distribute.

I would say grab a ticket quick but the show has been sold out since last week. If she takes it elsewhere, do grab a ticket.

Putting on a show was her task for this year. In another year, the task was learning to fly. She told us that part of the difficulty of that was her weight. Although she feels like an immaculate size ten masquerading as a BMI of 37, the doctors are serious about the impediment extra weight is to flying light aircraft.

Cheered me up no end. I've had plays on at the Fringe, but not with champagne and canapes. Maybe I need to spray some paint into the atmosphere in case there's a glass ceiling up there. I certainly need to remember that an immaculate size 12 masquerading as a BMI of not actually 37, is no true impediment. Any champagne sponsors reading this?