You just never know what's around the next corner, do you. I was about to write tonight's entry, full of wit, verve and bonhomie, telling you all about the wasp in Osprey, the sheet changing fiasco, the shower issue, the shoecleaning, the fact that the dorm doors, which are noise-sensitive, shut every time I raise my voice, and another lively game of Romans, when my ex-tutee and great friend Mr Edwards appeared, to tell me the very sad news that his father, who had been battling with a muscle-wasting disease for some time now, had just passed away.

It's doubly sad for Diana and for me, because we used to teach with him at Papplewick School, when we were on the staff there. Brilliant classicist, outstanding pianist - one who could rattle through a Brahms Intermezzo with far more panache than I - and a genuinely lovely man, it's hard to imagine that someone who was so upright, poised and who possessed genuine presence is no longer with us. Tom himself has left to be with his mother, and I know that our thoughts are with them both.

Hard to be witty and anecdotal tonight. Tim was a good friend, too - and, like Tom, a great colleague.

I think I'll leave it at that for tonight.