So there we are. Another last notched up as I played the organ for the final time, after what Mr Edwards and I worked out have been at least 15 years, in New College Chapel. As I remarked, wistfully, to my page-turner as I strode out of the college cloisters, it's been an amazing privilege, and one that I have appreciated hugely. 'Well', said he, 'at least you've left on a good note'. 'Indeed', said I, 'it was a D'. (Actually, it was a D major chord, but I didn't want to get too technical'.) I don't know whether you were there, but it was a wonderful service, with the Red Choir soaring to ever-greater heights of distinction.

Back, then, to the relative solace of Newton and the LMs, and the place has had a pleasing fragrance about it tonight, as everyone showered efficiently and many washed their hair. I used to have what I called 'fragrance nights' a couple of years ago, but that seemed to have more than a whiff of what my classics teacher referred to as 'a house of ill repute' about it, and as I thought the inspectors might smell a rat (or worse) if they heard about such goings on, I abandoned the idea.

Top Gear was good tonight, and the petrolheads all enjoyed that, accompanied by pink wafers, fruit and apple juice, and then there was an amazing programme about tigers, which was very popular, in the same way that I was most definitely not, when I called for silent reading at 8.30. Still, they all got over it very quickly and made for bed where a few minutes of reading silently, or quiet contemplation enabled all to settle down and go to sleep.

And I can't hear a sound.

Goodnight.