You wouldn't think, would you, that one might have a conversation with an 11-year-old that ran as follows:

'Good evening, F****es.'

Sorry?

It's the plural of F***x.

Yes, I know, but it's an adjective.

And?

So it can't be plural.

Sorry? What do you mean? Number, gender and case.

I know. But ......

But what? Are you now going to tell me that an adjective can't be plural?

Yes.

Erm ........ and how might this be?

Well, sir, an adjective on its own can't be plural. It's a word that's adjusted by the plurality of the noun, which makes it plural.

Ah. Well, I'm not sure Mr Bryan will see it quite the same way.

I have to admit, dear Followers, that my fellow conversationalist does have a bit of a point, although if he's right then I might have to re-think my teaching of the plural form .... !

Anyway, I left him pondering about it all and strode into Kingfisher, where I was greeted by a loud quasi-scream, which, as you will imagine, of course, was a result, apparently, of another member of the dorm trying to count up to twenty in Latin.

So it's all been a bit classical tonight, and I was very glad of the opportunity to be invited to make up a pun on fire bells. (Yes, I know, it's surreal.) I replied that to do so might be little alarming, asked whether that particular pun rang any bells, opined (to polite laughter) that I was on fire tonight, and went downstairs to the clubhouse, where an amassed throng was watching Murray mincing Lujblicic. (Not sure you can have an 'unamassed' throng.)

An agreeable chat about a number of authors, ranging from Anthony Trollope to Dylan Thomas, with e.e.cummings and J.D. Salinger thrown in formed another part of the jig-saw of tonight's banter, and I'd returned earlier from a wonderful concert of songs across the centuries, given by Dr Dean, Mr Edwards and Mr Price. Held in New Room, it was terrific.

This do on Monday is causing me some anxiety. I now learn that it might be broadcast on The World at One, the BBC News Channel and BBC Oxford. Or maybe none of the above. I have, with regret, declined the invitation to dine afterwards, as I suspect that I may be ready to come back down to Earth and normaility in the form of your wonderful offspring. I shall need their reassuring chatter!

For now, though,

Goodnight.