I do enjoy reading weeks. Not that I have much to do with them myself at the moment, but because it affords me/us the chance to catch up with our young, who are at the uni(versity) stage. Tom C returned this afternoon, and it's good to know that all is going well, and in order to ensure that we had a really good catch-up, he and I went to that well-know annex of the SF staff room, 'Joe's', where we were able to relax a bit, and imbibe sensibly - along with the assistance of the excellent Mr Randolph, a great friend of both of us.

The only trouble with one's young growing up, other than the fact that as they do so one feels increasingly aware of one's advancing years, is that they do tend to become rather capable. I don't think I'm a simpleton, but when I hear two people possessed of rather fine intellects engaged in erudite discourse as I did tonight, I do tend to think that my own limitations suggest that I'd be better off chatting with the farming community in West Dorset. Still, that doesn't mean to suggest that I'm not a very proud dad, because I am - and in no small measure Mrs C and I have SF to thank for that.

Goodness! That's a bit wistful for this blog! Oh well, not to worry. We can still have great fun here in Newton - and that's something that many people don't have in their own workplaces, encompassed and beset as we are these days by the rigmarole of ever-burgeoning bureacuracy. The day we lose the element of fun will be the day that Mrs C and I really do fold our tent and drive into the sunset.

Holby was pretty good tonight. And I did enjoy the dramatic irony of the chess match. Jac needs to watch out: Mr Hansen is no fool. Symbolism, anyone?

Goodnight.