After a wonderfully sunny weekend in the West Country, we're back again, and the final countdown is upon us. Already I'm frightening myself witless at what has to be done in the next three weeks, although fortunately my exam marking responsibilty, which was to examine carefully the scripts for the English 1 CE trials, is done and dusted.

Annoyingly, my motorbike, which I left with my friend Clive at Long Leave, has yet to be fully repaired, as its brake cables needed renewing, or some such, and so it has yet to sit its MOT exam for this year. Frustrating indeed, but my little SymJet scooter came into its own and I was able to follow the routes of T.E. Lawrence - without wrapping myself terminally around a tree, in Lawrensian manner. To be fair, I was going at about a quarter of the speed of a Brough.

Tonight, I was amazed to learn that one of our number could recite 'Invictus' fully - or so he claimed. 'Go on then: let's hear it', said I, whereupon he gave a faultless performance, much to the admiration of others in the dorm - and me.

Quavers, orange juice, and utterly delicious birthday brownies, for which many indeed are due, were on the Newtonian menu tonight, and now that we're all back to normal once again, all is well.

I hope you had a lovely weekend, and, as ever, thank you for reading.

Goodnight.