I don't know about you, but I thought that break was just a tad short. Still, it was pleasant enough and I was delighted to learn that everyone seems to have had an enjoyable time and that batteries have been re-charged. West Dorset provided much solace, as it always does, complete with the village fate. Sorry, fete. (Yes, I know it should have a circumflex.) Mrs C always gets slightly irritated by my cynical references to the 'fete worse than death', but I've never been a great fete enthusiast - although to be fair, this year my tickets for the bottle stall did actually come up trumps. I was supposed to do a stint on the gate this year, but, for the second year running, I was informed that there was sufficient manpower already and that my services were surplus to requirements. I think it's all a ploy, you know, but perhaps I should keep quiet. After all, I'd hate there to be any suggestion of 'Fete-gate-gate'.

It's good to have all the residents back once again. For one, whose roots lie across La Manche, it was his anniversaire yesterday, which caused all of his dorm-mates to burst into song on his return. I would love to report that this event was a tuneful affair, but it wasn't, and the pronunciation was a little suspect, too. Still, if you'd heard the Curlewites 'singing' 'Bonny Annivursur', you'd have realised that their hearts were in the right place. I suppose the rendition must have had a Scottish influence.

So, here we go again then. Let's hope the summer weather continues. Oh goodness, I've started writing about the weather now. Time to sign off, I think.

Jusqu'a demain.