Picture the scene. (That most awful of journalistic openings.) It is the morning exodus, and Newtonians are either leaving lodge, or staying to watch the News.

"Sir, I have great idea."

"Oh, and what might that be?"

"Well. This article is very boring, so I think we should be able to fast forward our lives."

"Splendid. Great idea. Only trouble is, as Stephen Hawking might explain, there might be a small 'time constraint' issue or two."

"H'm. Yes. But it would be nice to be on Short Leave already."

By now it was getting surreal, so I bid my conversationalist a fine good morning and wished him a fond 'Have a nice day" - as I do to all departing Newtonians, in their own language, when I can. And this year I can.

"Yes, you could say that. But trouble is, you just said 'Have a good afternoon'.

Mr Cameron, you are wrong. Where on earth would I be without multiracialism? How would my day start?

Enough of such contentious issues. Tonight I was asked if the inmates could 'watch the football' - another rather surreal enquiry, to which I responded, in true prep school teacher manner, that if someone was (were) prepared to bring a football over to lodge, we could all watch it, although it might not be that interesting. Rather like watching ski-jumping. Or grass grow. Or paint .....

I had a fascinating English lesson with a Fifth year class this morning: I was asked whether I thought Shakespeare was a real person. Lovin' it, of course, and I waxed lyrical about Christopher Marlowe (who, incidentally, shares his name with Mrs C's godmother's husband, and who is closely descended from same), Francis Bacon and others. Personally, I dismiss the Baconian theory, largely because it originates from the Victorian era, and I have little time for that, but I'm more convinced by the Marlowe-ists, because it seems to me that the sequence of events was more than mere coincidence. I explained my thinking, and listened, intently, to my learners' hypotheses. All this with twelve-year-olds! As I said to them, there were probably very similar conversations going on in the college SCRs down the road!

Anyway, we did indeed 'watch the football' and the evening, complete with its chqquettes (I'm assured that that's how they're spelt) went hitchlessly.

Goodnight.