For some obscure reason, the elves that drive this blog have decided that despite the fact that I incorporate paragraphs into the nightly bulletins, they will remove them, and so what flashes on to your retinae is one huge galumphing block of text. Well, if you're reading this in Elfland, perhaps you'll be so kind as to reinstate my paragraph privilege forthwith. An interesting Tuesday has been had by all, including the junior and senior poetry reading competitions, the annual cross-country run for all, and then a choral concert rehearsal in Macmillan this evening. So any thoughts you might have had about our 'winding down' towards the end of term have been, I'm glad to tell you, misplaced. And tomorrow, of course, is BOSFAM day (the day on which the boys and masters and mistresses of SF play much golf), although looking at the weather forecast it looks as if we're in for a few downpours. No doubt there'll be a proliferation of Sumbrellas. Holby was good tonight, as I hope all fellow followers discovered, and far-fetched as it may be (and no doubt there will be plenty of cynics who will not waste a moment in saying so) ..... ah: I've just realised that if you happen to be living in, say, Oman, and you haven't yet seen the latest episode on iPlayer, if I give away the storyline my popularity will be somewhat gadaffian. If you see what I mean. My son and heir and his friend went punting this afternoon: they must be among the first to do so! Apparently all went well. I've also discovered that the latter is one of the best ice-skaters in Dubai, and is already an international champion for her age .... Tom C's not bad, but I suspect that a visit to the Oxford Ice Rink might be quite interesting ..... ! I'll let you know. For now, though, Goodnight.