As I type, the happy sound of contented chappies is emanating from the common room and beyond. It all sounds very relaxed and happy - and Mrs C and I are off duty, it being Thursday night, and Mr Porter is steering the good ship Newton through calm and untroubled waters. He's just called for silent reading and within a few minutes, silence will reign once again. No, honestly, it will. The chatter is already dying away.

You'll be glad to hear that sheets, pillowcases, duvet covers and pyjamas were all successfully collected this morning, and that we all acquitted ourselves with moderate distinction. Four did really go into three, and the big bags were then done up and sent on their way.

It's now silent, after just two paragraphs. Well done, Mr P.

It's always tricky to report on evenings when we're not around with les garcons, and I do feel that I'm clutching at straws a bit, so I will tell you that my thought for the day in Chapel this morning (I always lead the service on Thursday mornings) involved inviting the congregation to consider whether Christianity really could be described as a monotheistic religion if it divided God up, Gall-like, into three parts. I wondered how that would go down, and I must confess that some of the Mynors did look a little perplexed, as I suspect that they don't really discuss heavy-duty theology on an every day basis. However, I found myself sitting among some members of 5th Form at supper, and they were eager to combine such exegetical consideration with the chomping of tortillas and chile con carne, so that was good. As always, we parted without any conclusions being reached, although we did have a good discussion.

Ah well, tomorrow, as they say, is another day. Deep, that old adage. I can't think of anything of great note that's due to happen, so I suspect it will be just another Friday, with HM's assembly to kick things off - although I've just remembered that he's going to be away until tomorrow night, so Mr Bishop will take the helm, then lessons, then games, then , well, the rest of the day, then lodge. But that's the joy of a place like this: you never quite know what's going to happen next. So tune in tomorrow, same time, same place - and see. For now, though,

Goodnight. (Oh, and just to prove that standards are being maintained, I spotted a gerund in a round-bin e-mail to all staff from Mr Bishop today. I bet you thought they were extinct.)