I had rather a strange experience this morning of being mistaken for a caterer. I went to the King's Church for a meeting with all the Christian Youth Workers in the town and I was carrying a tray of cake from the abundant spread that our congregation provided for the new vicar and his guests last night. It was amazing how the silver platter had people hypnotised. The people on reception and the lovely ladies in the church office invited me to "leave it over there" or said something like "Ok I'll take it, dear" no matter how much I kept saying "I'm coming to meet Stewart" or "NO I'm attending the meeting!" They seemed transfixed by the shiny silver platter which MUST mean I was delivering cake. Even when Adam (who's a youth worker in training and guitar dude) helped me out they were still confused. It made me think: maybe I should hang up the casual wear and start power dressing. When I'd finished laughing I tucked in to the splendid cakes. Bakers of All Saints' you are supreme!