Shellair. He was another of Dr Oxley's passions. I used to be able to recite chunks of Adonais' demise, but when I tried earlier, most of it had gone. Oh well, I suppose I can look forward to the total collapse of memory in a few years' time: I've already told our three that life will be pretty simple, as they should just plonk me in front of 'Swiss Railway Journeys', or 'World's Great Motorcycle Rides' and I'll be happy. Same episode, if they like. Like a goldfish in a bowl, I suppose: swimming around a bowl with a circumference of five seconds, while having a memory of four.

Anyway, what was I saying?

Oh yes. Tonight's film was - or rather, is - 'Jurassic Park', although there are some who were not that keen on that, referring to it perjoratively by other sobriquets - and thus incurring a few barks from the lodgemeister - and who have relocated themselves in the upstairs common room, right next to where I'm typing, and who are now making a racket next door. They've just had to endure the usual teacher talk:

'Look! If you lot can't be quiet, then you will all go back downstairs.' Silence for about two minutes and then normal service resumed. Mustn't be mean; I was their age once.

The Cheater family is as one tonight: all three of our young are with us, back from uni(versity) or school, and we had a wonderful family fivesome in the kitchen earlier. The 'family' then extended, and most of them are either sprawled out in the downstairs common room, watching Jurassic Park under their duvets, with Isla in the middle of the scene, and the others are upstairs, next to me. Quiet as mice.

Well, almost. ("Shhhhh!!!!! Mr Cheater's writing the blog next door!!")

Indeed.

Goodnight.