Nearly there! Already! Wherever have those weeks gone - and have we all achieved as much as we should? Oh dear, such worries, such consternation! Still, no matter: we've now got ten days in which to do whatever we want, whether, like me, you'll be walking, reading, motorcycling (as long as isn't TOO cold), playing the piano, listening to music, clearing those leaves in the garden, skyping the offspring, sampling the fruits of the vine, along with the produce of the local artisans, or jetting off to warmer climes - oh, the joys are endless, and for us, West Dorset is beckoning with its much-loved clarion call.

My dear colleague Mr Porter has been on duty tonight, so there has been good order throughout the evening, with no problems and plenty of fun. Fun. Yes, that's what lodge life should consist of. Good order, of course, and all the usual requirements of family life, but fun, too, and plenty of it. I was talking with Mrs C on Tuesday, and we both agreed that your LMs are extensions of our own family, in a way that I'm sure you'll understand, and we love it when they feel that they can wander into our kitchen and worship the dog, or chat to the cat, or talk to us or our own young freely.

I'd better go. One of our residents has to catch a 'plane early tomorrow morning, so he's in the room next door to where I'm thumping this out, and he probably wants to go to sleep. So, my dear Followers, whether you're in Rio, Romania, Russia, Rekyavik or, of course, you-know-where, thanks for reading, and have a wonderful Long Leave.

Goodnight.