Oh very funny, Miss Ruthie. There I was this morning, happily watching the Breakfast news, surrounded by receptacular laundry baskets, mug of coffee in hand.

"So where would you put pillowcases, then?"

"Sorry? Oh, in with the sheets, of course."

"Er, think again ... ? Pillowcases go with .... ?"

"Ah! Duvets!"

I don't know how you mummies do it, I really don't. Anyway, I found it hard to resist a wry smile when one of our residents looked at the Miss Ruthie's dorm tidiness results sheet and opined that it was easy to gauge her mood by the number of marks that were awarded to each dorm each day!

I do hope you were able to see the inspirational film about Alex Stobbs last night. (At the expense of Ice Road Truckers ... !) Diana and I left Newton in the capable hands of Dr Dean, as we do every Thursday, and sat, spellbound for an hour. I am privileged to know Alex's parents well, and one of my most treasured possessions is a letter from Alex himself, written at the age of 12, when he kindly replied to a letter I wrote, congratulating him on playing a spectacular organ piece in King's College Chapel after I'd preached a sermon there. The whole programme made me think about our own good fortune as parents, how strong his parents have to be, and how incredible Alex is, living life to the full, in the face of such adversity. What a metaphor for his own existence is the exquisite St Matthew Passion.

I had to ban Isla from her early morning visit to Curlew dorm this morning. Too much canine adulation and not enough sheet/duvet/pillowcase/pyjama changing.

I rather like the word receptacular, by the way.