A day of agreement. This time with dear Thom.

Last night saw me (and dear Susan, Gillian and Siobhan) attend the Lothian Hospitals carol service in aid of CLIC Sargent.

But it was so much more than a simple carol service.

The Lothian Hospitals choir was the first wonderful treat. This featured Jacques / Creon amongst plentiful others and was thus the main reason for our attendance.

But we also had Thistle Brass. Here I agree with Thom. Their chestnuts were the moment that I held my breath and was happy I'd dragged myself along to the Usher Hall on what was really rather an inconvenient night.

We had Nicola Benedetti playing a horrible wild shrill piece by Ravel, a nicer piece by someone else and two much nicer pieces by two other people in the second half. Wearing, as duly noted by Thom, a strange gypsy dress. She's a fine player. I believe I haven't seen /heard her play before. Her Massenet final piece - I'm such a tragic populist - was truly gorgeous.

We had some poor Scottish BBC Alba presenter who was horrifically wearing a golden dress and silver shoes.

And the undoubted show stealer was a choir of tiny children from some posh school who sang 4 raggedy carols but were adorable with it. Much as this did not seem to move Thom, maybe I had a bit of a moist eye. O The Wonder Of The Child At Christmas.

And we got to heartily sing. When we'd figured out we needed a programme which contained the words. I had low sultry Siobhan to one side of me and a woman with a horrifically shrill voice in the row behind me. Hark the Herald. Though the Hospitals Choir didn't go to town on the descant nearly so much as I'd've wished. But we can't have everything.