OK, I admit it. I'm now 60 - and have been since Wednesday, hence the lapse, for which I do apologise, dear Followers. Still, as Hugh Grant says, 60 is the new 40, and to judge from the past couple of days, he's not far wrong.

Wednesday was great, because it started with all the Newtonians (and then the rest of the school) wishing me a very happy birthday, and I was somewhat taken aback when I walked into my form room, to see my whiteboard completely smothered in birthday wishes! (I will draw a veil over the fact that the large writing in the middle of the board read 'Happy Birtday', because otherwise you might imagine that the teaching of English here is a little curious. I discreetly added an h.)

The day went on as it usually does on a Wednesday, until the evening, when we had issued a general invitation to our colleagues to come and help celebrate this momentous event. To my immeasurable delight, just about everyone came, and those who didn't make it all had very valid reasons as to why. It was a wonderful party, and I realised just how fortunate I am to live, work and have my being at this amazing school. My friend of many years, Mr Ives, our latest recruit, offered some extremely undeserved comments publicly, to which I responded that I had been determined not to become emotional about it being my last birtday at SF, but that to do so was to be like the chap who went and bought a gallon of Tippex. Big mistake.

Last night, the celebrations continued, as my dear wife had secretly and very cleverly arranged for our very greatest friends that we have known for many, many years, to congregate over in Mayfield, and then told me that we were going over to the Ives' for a drink. Of course, you can imagine what happened: all of the others jumped out from behind walls, under tables and behind curtains, and, having got over the shock (me of their jumping out, not them of me looking so ancient, I mean) we journeyed to a very nice restaurant in Jericho. (Oxford. No, I haven't gone completely gaga - yet.)

Anyway, it was wonderful, from start to finish, and, as I said in an interal e-mail to 'all staff', I wouldn't mind being 60 all over again .... !'

And so back to normality once again. Sheets and pyjamas were clean tonight, and the nit check elicited a few insectorial dwellings that have now been obliterated. (Not many, you'll be glad to know.)

I learnt of staring competitions with hamsters that take place at home, apparently, which put a new complexion on things, and then I was regaled with a whole load of jokes and quiz questions, some of which I was able to answer correctly by a process of deduction, which seemed to impress.

I was going to tell you my joke about the French snail who bought a Ferrari, but I think I've now been typing for long enough, so that can wait for another time.

Until then, then,

Goodnight