The hot water system in Newton is, dare I day it, somewhat idiosyncratic. By that I mean that it sometimes fails to function as it should, and, dear Followers, standing under a freezing shower first thing in the morning takes me back to my own prep school days, to a time when Mr Bennett, the quasi-housemaster, would appear just after the 'rising bell' and point to various members of the dorm, bellowing, 'You, you, you, you and you: cold showers in the changing rooms. Now!!' At least we were let off the Latin verbs, although those of you who read last year's entries will know that, under very similar circumstances, I exclaimed more than just the periphrastic subjunctive of deponent verbs. Irregular conjugations of Anglo-Saxon verbs, yes, that was more like it.

Anyway, it's working again now, and so hot and comforting showers were enjoyed by the residents tonight.

Tonight the Hairy Bikers entertained a few, and others did their best to demolish the Digestive mountain once again, this time under the watchful gaze of Mrs C, rather than that of her more liberal-minded son.

The Broadband is about to let me down, so I'm going to finish now. Oh, and by the way, Mr Bennett, er, 'left' rather quickly, you may be reassured to know.

Goodnight all.