It all gets a bit philosophical around the Cheaters' dinner table at times. I've just been discussing , with our youngest, whether orginality and creativity are inter-related. I suggested that any so-called originality has to be based on someone else's creativity - and you can imagine the response to that. Well fair dos, I reckon.

Mr Bryan's on duty tonight, and I hope he enjoyed 'conundra'. Meanwhile, your correspondent has had a most entertaining evening, starting with a private pupils' piano lesson, followed by a sortie to 'Joe's', that well-known watering-hole of the SF staff, where I was able tangibly to appreciate Mr Randolph's technical assistance during my presentation of 'Just a Minute'. We vwere comparing blog notes, as we both write one, and I informed him of the opening gambit of my last post, to which he opined that such an introduction suggests that one's own erudition is somewhat boundless in itself. Yes, well. Maybe. Possibly. I couldn't possibly comment. Anyway, after a couple of glasses of a very drinkable Pinot Gricio (caipharinas being unavailable due to the lack of cachacas - and I'll tell you the story of my predilection for that well-known South American cocktail some other time; Brazil and Copacabana come into it), I left, in order to catch up with the latest episode of 'Holby'. Fat chance. Football was on, instead. Still, all was not lost.

I suggested to my wife and my youngest that Xi'an might come to the rescue; a suggestion that was met with unanimous agreement. Thus, I strode back down Summertown High Street, passing Mr Randolph and Dr Harksin who were imbibing outside Joe's, exploded about the absence of Holby and made my way to Xi'an.

As you may recall, Tom Cheater was last employed in the said establishment. Having submitted my order,, I was asked for my name. On telling the delightful girl behind the bar that it was Cheater, it became instantly clear that Tom had achieved god-like status in the said restaurant. I was offered a complimentary glass of house white, a sackful of prawn crackers, and told that Tom was missed hugely. I must remember to tell him of his deification.

As for Newton and the Newtonians, in the capable hands of Mr Bryan, I shall find out tomorrow morning - and report back.