Forgive me for not seeing many of you last night: I was around, but not for the whole time, because I'd been invited to meet up with a former tutee who's about to leave Radley, so I dashed down to the University Club for a bite and a catch-up. I'd already lunched in Quod, discussing post-retirement options, so it was quite a day, not least because I'd driven up from Dorset in the morning.

Report writing is proving to be what it always is: quite fun when one gets into it, but a daunting prospect until one does! Sunday brings an afternoon of examining over at Gloucester Uni, and then on Monday I'm due to be one of the guest speakers at an Afghanistan National Institure of Music do at the House of Commons. (An impressive guest list, incorporating The Speaker and a collection of about 200 dignitaries, complete with press and media. Ah well, the dinner afterwards should be a good do.)

Enough of me, me, me: it's just that I imagine (probably wrongly) that you might be vaguely interested in what your sons' lodgemeister gets up to.

As for Newton tonight, we've been fortunate to have had Mr Bryan at the helm, ensuring good order and fine table tennis. He is, after all, the table-tennis supremo here at SF, and, it seems, as unbeatable at said sport as he is, according to his various forms, at arguing. He is one of those people who can make one wither with his one-liners.

It's lovely to have a full complement of LMs once again, especially those who have been unwell recently, particularly he who has been very poorly indeed.

So, as we lurch inexorably towards the e of t, all is well, and boys and staff are content.

I may not be able to post tomorrow night, but I'll make sure I make up for it on Friday, so for now, thank you, as always, for reading.

Goodnight.