I know, I know. Not only have I spent the last month or so drooling over Cranford, I'm now immersed in the world of Oliver Twist (and, whisper it softly, but I've got the Fanny Hill two-parter to watch as well). Pass me my knitting.

Actually I used to be able to knit, but that's a whole other story. Tonight is the finale of the new Oliver Twist adaptation on BBC1, and having had a nice glass of wine and settled down in front of the telly, I'm going to sit here and write as I watch. (I may have had enough wine that this is the only way I'll stay awake throughout the episode.)

1910 So here we are. Five minutes to go til it starts, and this Oliver is suffering a fate worse than his namesake in the Dickens novel - he's having to watch the last few minutes of Strictly Come Dancing, in which Bruce Forsyth is singing. I don't normally watch this. Does he do that every week? If so, how does it get any viewing figures? Jesus Christ. Let's Twist again, already.

1912 A bit of background: if you've not been near your set this week, BBC1 has been running Twist every day since Tuesday's hour-long opener. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday have each had half-hour instalments, and tonight is the concluding part.

1914 I'm sure you all know what happens in Oliver Twist, but I'm hopelessly ill-informed. My only real knowledge of the show comes from the Disney adaptation in which a cartoon kitten plays the title role, ably assisted by the Artful Dodger, taking the form of a mongrel with a bunch of sausages around its neck. I am now told by IMDB that Billy Joel is involved in that somewhere. I absatively, posolutely can't believe that. No wonder I like him.

1915 More trails than you can shake a pocketful of handkerchiefs (chieves?) at, including one for the forthcoming series in which they try to find stars for a new Oliver! musical. I might actually be tempted. Somebody shoot me.

1916 Hey hey! Here we go. Much splashing through water, and there's Fagin packing in a bit of a hurry. What Fagin this boy is, too. Timothy Spall may be on the plump side for a King of street urchins, but he's done a fine old job. Ooh! It's the Old Bill! With Oliver's saviour Mr Brownlow in tow! This'll be a good half hour, y'know.

1917 I do love the opening titles, especially the bull terrier. A long, long time since bull terriers were in fashion. We used to have a bull terrier called Lizzie, who famously bit through my ear one day. Lovely dog, honest.

1919 Sykes is marching Oliver off (with bully tagging along), somewhere away from London. Mr Brownlow is not impressed that Oliver is not back with Fagin, and the police officer (who I'm sure appeared in the first episode - was there only one copper in Dickensian London?) is not amused either. Fagin "peaches" and tells the police that Sykes has taken Oliver. Not looking good for Fagin as he's taken off. Even Ezekiel the crow is condemned, and neither are going to go quietly.

1920 Have you noticed, by the way, that Ezekiel and Fagin never appear together? Clearly the producers couldn't get the crow to squawk in a room with actors in it, so they stuck it on a perch and just filmed various takes of it doing its lines alone. Poor effort from the crow.

1922 "You're my protection, boy. You're supposed to say, 'It couldn't have been Bill Sykes what done it', cos I was out here, wa'n't I?" Tom Hardy is a bloody good Sykes. Shame the bull terrier's had enough and done a runner. And can you blame it when the ghost of Nancy, the girl Sykes has just murdered, is there in the forest with them? Even Lizzie would have thought twice before sinking her fangs into that.

1924 Ah, the first appearance for Mr Monks, otherwise known as Edward Brownlow, but best known to us 21st century types as Mac out of Green Wing. And how superbly he's gone from affable ladies' man to the embodiment of consummate evil, as he plots the demise of the workhouse boy who stands to halve his inheritance.

1925 Here's a situation. You are a ten year old boy being held hostage by a deeply depraved, ethically vacant gangster who has started to see the ghost of the lover he killed. What's your next move? Sing "Abide With Me"? Spot on.

1927 Mr Brownlow confronts Edward, who says he has lost his mind. (He wouldn't be the first in the opening ten minutes.) It doesn't take long for Mac to crack and things are starting to unravel, as are people. Now the Good Guys have the letter from Agnes in their possession. Which is good 'cos they've got eighteen minutes of broadcast to sort this mess out.

1928 By the way if you don't know who Agnes is, go to iPlayer and watch the first four episodes. You've got til Christmas Day 2007 before the first one expires. Crack on! (It's from the BBC and it's free.)

1930 Edward's trying to exercise his influence over his grandfather one final time. He ain't buying it. Bets on Edward killing grandpa in the next minute?

1932 Nope, nope, Mr Brownlow is alive and well. Edward clearly didn't fancy his chances versus the coppers in the house. We've had the noose threatened enough times in five days' viewing but that would've been, if you will excuse the pun, a dead cert.

1935 Dodger and Fagin, who have been as close as lovers throughout, have a frantic discussion in jail. Dodger is charged with finding Oliver as he's dragged away by more policemen. (Who, even in this century, were never around when you needed them.)

1936 Sykes has lost it and as Oliver makes good his escape, his captor's off into the sewers of London - punishment enough, you'd think, and the coppers don't seem in much of a hurry to pursue. It won't exactly take long to smell him out when he resurfaces.

1937 Dodger and Oliver bump into each other but Dodger's not getting any joy. Meanwhile Fagin is up before the beak, and this time it isn't Ezekiel's. Now - is that one of the blokes out of Armstrong and Miller playing the part of the judge? I'm sure he is but a) I don't know which is which out of those two and b) I'm notoriously shite at celebrity spotting, even on telly.

1938 Fagin refuses to renounce his faith in front of whichever one of Armstrong or Miller, so it's not looking good for him. (That noose has been promised action all week, in fairness, and it's been left, er, 'hanging' til now.)

1940 Here's a situation. You are a deeply depraved, ethically vacant gangster who has started to see the ghost of the lover he killed. You're on the run in the sewers. What's your next move? Sing "Abide With Me"? Spot on.

1942 Oliver's back! Rose is overjoyed and Mr Brownlow, never overly expressive, looks on in the background. They'll live happily ever after. Fagin, however, probably won't, as he looks out across the crowd at his imminent hanging. He spots Dodger, who can't bear to watch and hides as the grisly sound effects play out around his ears. Out of nowhere the bull terrier pops up, clearly sensing an ear to be nibbled, and Dodger has a new companion. I used to play with that dog in a crash helmet after the ear incident, just so you know Dodge.

1943 Agnes gets a proper send-off at last, in the company of sister Rose and son Oliver, who remembers Nancy too. Dog and Dodge make their sombre way across town, throwing the occasional heartbroken threat at passers-by, and even Mr Bumble (come on, keep up) gets a quick cameo at the end with his new madam.

1944 A series which for a moment looked as though it would end with Mr Bumble getting a kick up the arse, actually ends with Oliver and Rose playing a wonderful piano duet in front of an appreciative Mr Brownlow (who, at the outset, disliked the instrument immensely). The show closes with "Merry Christmas!" ringing in the air. And to you, too.

If you watched Oliver Twist all week, let me know your thoughts in the comments. As I'm sure you can gather I've rather enjoyed it. It's no Cranford but it's whiled away three highly enjoyable hours and at least, now, I know the bloody story. Can I have Oliver and Co on DVD for Christmas?