Last half-day in the office -- anticipating being officially set free early afternoon -- and the brio trio are present and correct. That'll be poor Andy to drive as per always with me and Kev acting as Iggy's passengers, la-la-la-la. Crimbo chills out there.

Somewhat cheekily and entirely in character, Kev suggests a place in The 'Stowe since that'll save him a bus ride home. Where to, precious? Back to the unique address that is number 1, Bent Hill, home of Ruby's, now modishly painted in ever fashionable black. Naturally, been here before:

• in 2014 when Andy had the "zurek" sour rye soup and lived to tell the tale
• in 2008 when Grenvyle (!) drove and there were nibbly bits to share

Only recently reopened has the home of the Kaiser Chiefs and the joint is jumpin', so much so that we're struggling for seating. Tables are shifted, chairs are scraped, bottoms are lowered. Very much the usual suspects on the traditional menu but, as with Monty Python's novel writing sketch, the crowd are loving it. Mix of jacket potato, all day breakfast and paninis for the gleesomes. Not quite enough staff to go around today but the world and his wife are waiting for their humble fare. This is food that does a job.

Wodge of cake and a none-too-bad coffee to send us on our way, Kev to Argos, Andy to the Wickham butcher's and me to click and collect. Merry season's greetings to us all!

If it was a car -- Ruby DS Grand Sport.
If they were passing by -- Ruby Turner.