Abject apologies, once again, to the hundreds of you (in my dreams), scattered around the globe as you are, who logged on to this domain last night or this morning to find that the cyberspatial cupboard, if you will, was bare. I could claim that I took a night off to celebrate getting to 170 posts, but the truth is that Mrs C and I were dining chez sa soeur, and by the time we returned, I was in no fit state - sorry, I mean it was far too late - to start composing witty banter. (If such it be.) (I always think that using the subjunctive makes me sound like a Dorset native, and indeed, I hear it around me all the time in Bridport. I've never had the nerve to pass comment on any of the natives' use of same, as I suspect that something very similar to Cyberus (the dog, I mean, not one of the natives ...) might be instructed to practise using its canine molars on me.)

I nearly had a mutiny tonight. All the residents were outside playing ping-pong when Mrs C decided that it was time to come in and eat biscuits. The Cookie fairy has arrived once again, however, and so I decided to let the residents go from the garden by dorms. I was told, firmly, by the residents of Osprey, that they should have been allowed in first, as such were the indirect provenance of the said delights. You have to be very careful here, you know. Anyway, once all were in and chomping in the common room, I enquired where mine was. It was duly delivered. My younger daughter then appeared, informing me that my dear wife had instructed her to bring one to me. Another victory. So thank you, Granny, and please accept another chorus of WLYG. They were delicious.

So there we be. Another evening gone - and the final chunk of the year now in full swing.

Oh arrr.