Being a local celebrity, I can't step foot outside my front door without being accosted by adoring fans. Literally. I'd made it as far as my wheelie bin at the bottom of my steps just now, before being apprehended by a lady with the words "Are you the chap my sister's looked up on the net?".

I considered for a moment whether I could get away with a simple "Me no speak English", decided against it, and instead went with a non-committal "Probably".

Which led to a brief conversation, marred slightly by the fact that I have a mind like a sieve, and no sooner had we parted than I realised I couldn't remember what she said her name was. Though I do know her sister's called Mel. Fortunately, we were joined in mid chat by 'Nanna Long', which is the kind of name you don't forget, and who happens to be Mel and Anon's mother (as well as a Parish Councillor - I voted for you, Nanna Long. No, really), proving that my appeal spans the generations.

Being the king of small talk, I naturally ummed and ahhed my way through the conversation, saying nothing of any interest, while Anon followed the example of everyone I've ever met, by trying to raise the subject of depression without actually mentioning the word 'depression'. Which always amuses me, and is of course why I wrote my depression page in the first place. In the end she went with "the content of your site rang a lot of bells with me", which was sufficiently vague enough to avoid embarrassment. But I knew what you meant, Anon.

At least I hope I did. Maybe she was just talking about my views on Julie Reinger.