Well, that was nice. Although it seems to have been the case that if you blinked, you missed it. It's been great to learn of all the exciting things that the residents have been up to, and I hope you all enjoyed yourselves tremendously. Mrs C and I took a detour via Poole General Hospital, where my 91-year-old mama is laid up with a broken hip and a fractured arm (she's making 'terrific progress', apparently, which is good news) and thence across the Sandbanks ferry to Studland, for a sunny and thoroughly agreeable stroll across the golden sand, admiring the sunlight, reflected in the mirror-like sea. Isla went mental, of course, and ended up having the kind of time with 'the biggest spotty dog you ever did see' that my head of English could have enjoyed had he decided that he would, after all, have preferred to enjoy the company of a primate on the outskirts of Bath. And I don't mean an archbishop.

The weather thereafter was too cold for anything akin to that which is enjoyed by Hells' Angels (biking, I mean), so we decided to walk as much as possible, and had a thoroughly delightful time journeying through bluebell woods to a ruined chapel in the middle of them. It was magical, although I think both of us imagined that we were seeing a vision when we came across a new-age traveller sitting 'inside' the chapel. (There are no walls, you see, nor a roof.) We greeted her in what I thought was a rather orthodox fashion, which she reciprocated with the kind of benign smile that n.a.t.s give one, and moved on. I suppose, in a funny kind of way, she rather enhanced our visit, although I must say that we very rarely come across anyone else there. Perhaps she was a vision after all. Or perhaps I'd just consumed too much claret.

It's good to have them all back, and now we head for Long Leave. I dunno: it's all holidays with us, isn't it. (As all of my non-teacher friends never tire of telling me.)