My Friends, after what has been a long but thoroughly enjoyable day, I think this will be just a short post to (a) thank you for reading my ramblings every night and (b) to wish you all, wherever you may be, a very Happy Easter.

Most of today has involved playing golf, with one of my very capable tutees, and I have to say that we didn't do at all badly. I don't know our position yet, but we shall discover that in the morning, and if I remember, I will post it here, lest you should be interested.

Mr Lagden had prepared a wonderful lunch in his garden, and I was delighted when I realised that my erstwhile colleague, Mr Bruce McCrae, formerly of this parish, had been invited back for our valedictory Bosfam. If you want to see him pontificating about anything and everything under the sun on YouTube, put Tenneral (his nom d'internet) into the YT search engine, and see what you think. He has literally thousands of followers! His advice on how to make the best gin and tonic in the world is particularly pertinent, but his theological thoughts are worth listening to, too. Controversial, but worth it.

Anyway, there we are: have a great Easter, and a wonderful holiday.

Until next term,

Goodnight.

Good evening, dear Friends, and welcome to post number 480 - which means that there are just 20 to go before I hit my target!

It's amazing how one is taken by surprise when something happens. By this I mean that until tonight I haven't really felt any kind of emotion about leaving at the end of next term; indeed, when a member of my third year English set observed that it was 'the end of my last ever Lent term short leave', my rejoinder was 'And .... ?' 'But sir, aren't you upset?' 'Nope', said I. 'But won't you miss me, sir?' asked another. 'Nope', I lied. All of which serves to preface my telling you that tonight Mrs C and I were presented with a most lovely work of art, completed by one of our LMs, which was entiteld 'Love Hearts', and was illustrated with many of same. It was a wonderful moment, and when one of the others said, with a smile, 'Quite emotional, isn't it, sir', I have to confess that it was.

But I do have to tell you, dear readers, that I won't be hanging up my mortar board in September quite as definitely as I thought I might. That's all I'm saying for now, but further details in due course. H'm. That should cause a few flutters in the dovecotes ..... !

Tonight Congreve are at the league feast, they having won the league comp, which left the rest of the LMs here, having returned to lodge a little earlier than normal, and playing Uno with Hannah C or working out puzzles and completing quizzes with your correspondent. Ah. I hear the contented strains of revellers. The league feast, organised superbly once again by Mr Lagden, must have finished.

Tomorrow is BOSFAM golf, and for those who don't know, BOSFAM stands for Boys of Summer Fields and Masters (and Mistresses), and, basically, we spend the day playing golf. I am in a group with Messrs Lagden, Ives and Bryan, and one of my own tutees, whose brother is a Newtonian, will be my partner. He is particularly good, I know, so let's hope we can 'do the biz'! The highest up the order I have ever managed to come in eighteen years is 6th, but who knows?!

I will keep you posted. Until then,

Goodnight.

Cola bottles. Yes, that's right: one of my preferred confectionery options (other than chocolate, of course) and which Mrs C and Hannah have decided, between them, that if I knew where the mound of them has been secreted away, then there would be none available for the LMs. Miss Lade seems to be in on it, too, and despite my giving her the option of a drink of her choice in Costa or Starbucks, she refuses to give the location of said sweets away. Harsh. Still, I'll find them. You wait and see if I don't.

Tonight we were treated to the most amazing concert by the Chaplain's daughter, Anna, 16, who played an extraordinary number of right notes on the harp and the piano. The performances were all stunning, and everyone enjoyed them.

To lodge thereafter, and to black shoe-cleaning, which resulted in three more happy victors, who enjoyed their edible rewards. No cola bottles, though, so they remain amassed in a cupboard somehere. I'll find them.

This 'big dog' thing got a little out of hand tonight, with various LMs wondering whether they might address me as 'big cat', as they thought that was more appropriate for a cheetah (sic), but when one of our number remarked 'I love da big dog' I thought it was time to draw a line under such canine references. Still, it was quite fun while it lasted. I had to take a lead. (Ho ho.)

So ya, bruvs, dat is where I is gonna leave it, and now I is gonna watch some (please insert your chosen perjorative term within these parentheses) on da t.v.

Laters.

Well, there we are then. Our last Sunday of a Lent term has come and gone, and it was good to know that it was day for celebration, as SF won the Sevens tournament held here, which caused Our Leader to become extra buoyant!

Tonight has been amn enjoyable night, other than a slight altercation with the occupants of the UCR, who were in the middle of a fracas when I walked in, so I made all the usual, teacherish remarks about how the computer would be removed if such behaviour didn't cease forthwith (why can't schoolmasters just use simple words?) and the facilities available debarred henceforth, which caused everyone to keep quiet while they wondered whether your correspondent had taken leave of his senses.

Hannah C assisted Miss (Harriet) Lade with duty tonight, and she has just opined (!) to me that she 'loves the boys in this lodge'. Oh well, as I said to the boy who told me that his public speech was going to be about Haribo .....

Sweet.

Goodnight.

Me: OK, lights out now, please.

Kingfisherian: Big dog.

Me: Sorry?

K: Big dog.

Me: Er, sorry, what is this, erm, 'big dog'?

K: You, sir.

Me: Sorry?

K: Big dog in da house.

Me: Er, 'big dog in da house what?'

K: You, sir.

Me: Me?

K: Yeah. You da big dog in da house.

Me: Ah. I see. I have to confess that I've been called many things during the past eighteen years, but 'big dog in da house' isn't one of them.

K: Flattered, sir?

Me: Erm, well, erm, I'm not entirely convinced, but, erm, well, yes, probably.

So there we are then. It's goodnight from them, and it's goodnight from 'da big dog in da house'.

Goodnight.

Good evening, one and all - and greetings to our Follower in Moldova. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't really know where that is, but it does seem to me that this blog is becoming akin to the old Eurovision Song Contest, so I can only hope that my nightly ramblings score more than the dreaded 'nul points'!

Mrs C and I went to watch the play last night, and it was truly amazing. Mrs Stoop asked me if I would mind writing it up for the magazine, which is rather flattering, and also rather good, because I can write without fear of let or hindrance, as I'll be 130 miles away when the publication comes out! Oh don't worry, I shall say loads of nice things, all of which will be richly deserved. I don't know if you know Ben Elton's great opus. 'We Will Rock You', but if you do, you'll know it's accompanied by the fab music of Queen, whose works Mrs C adores. I couldn't help but think that the intro to one of them was nicked from the intro to that great 60s classic 'Substitute', by The Who, who were my own favoured band in days of old. There was a scene, too, in which the characters sported dark glasses and very long hair and were sitting around doing sweet ........ , which made me think back to those happy days in the dayroom at Kingswood School in the 1960s. Of course, it wasn't entirely like that. Oh no. At least we had joss sticks burning and releasing great wafts of incense. Plus ca change.

It's all been a bit bohemian here tonight, which is topical, because les garcons have been arriving in dribs and drabs because of the play, so there hasn't really been a programme. Well, other than the ones on the telly for the non-players, I mean.

I've had it. Or, for our French friends, je l'ai eu, as my old mate Miles Kington would have said. (His best ever was 'coup de grace'. Lawnmower. Brilliant.)

Goodnight.

Good evening, dear Friends and Followers, wherever you may be.

Well, first of all, I'm glad to report that 'cesca's trial day went very well indeed, and that Isla seems entirely happy with the arrangement. In fact, she almost shed a tear when her little companion (who is, to quote my eldest daughter, 'sooooooooooooooooooo cute') when she left. So yes, I think all will be well. And you will see her before the end of term.

Yesterday, though, I was in London all day, attending a Board meeting of the music college of whose gubernatorial team I am a member, and that went rather well, too. The enconomic situation seems to be picking up slowly but positively, to judge from our examination entries, and whilst we were all a tad perturbed six months ago, we're not now. I think that's indicative of the situation generally - but I'm no expert, and I know that many of you are, dear Followers, so I will desist from taking this matter, and my opinions, any further. Suffice it to say that we're doing OK.

I'm always entertained by train travel, though. It just makes me LOL. The number of people who can't resist the opportunity to ring their partners and say fatuous things like 'Yeah, I'm on the train', or, 'I'm just pulling into the station now' makes me wonder how on earth we ever managed in the old days. I wanted to ring Mrs C and say, in a very loud voice, 'Hi. I'm just ringing you now'. And then there was the chap who was ostensibly having a conversation with himself about nuclear physics. It took me some time to realise that he was, in fact, talking to someone else, whom he could hear in his earpiece. Anyway, I just recited the pluperfect active of amo out loud as we entered Paddington Station (the rhythm goes perfectly, including the 2nd person plural across the points), which drew a few rather curious glances. If you can't beat them ......

I continue to be amazed by the attraction of 'The Fisherman's Apprenctice', which we watched en masse tonight. It's incredibly popular, especially with hot choc, ginger nuts, shortbread and fruit, which were all on offer tonight.

Did you know that Newton is the home of Silent Reading? It was initiated by Mr and Mrs Balding when they were lodgeparents, in 1977. It soon caught on, and now all lodges do it.

So there you are. Your fun fact for the night.

Goodnight.

Well, the day of the jackal is approaching. In other words, the new member of our family is coming to join us for a trial day tomorrow - and, ridiculous as it sounds, I'm almost as nervous as I would be if it were one of our own going for a day at a prep school! I'm sure you will recall the feeling! Sadly, though, I have to go to London for a meeting at 11, so I won't be able to see her for more than a few minutes when she arrives at 8.15, but I will try to make the most of our brief meeting. Her name, by the way, chosen by daughter Alice, is Cheska, which we thought rather nice. I wasn't that keen on the 'h', as the name seemed classier without it, but I was outnumbered my female opinion. I tried for a small 'c' as well, and an apostrophe, viz: 'cesca, but that was considered to be ridiculous. What about cc'esca? Rather like ffortescue. No? Oh well, just a thought. I'll let you know how she gets on.

Monday night meant shoe-cleaning night in Newton, and once again there were three lucky winners, who became Haribo-encompassed as a result of their endeavours. The judge tonight was daughter Hannah, who is taking a(nother) break from writing her dissertation, although she is terribly excited, as she has been appointed to a school for September! Just the degree to go, then. I can't, at this stage, tell you which school it is, but Mrs C and I are v. proud, as you can imagine, especially as she's going to keep the education flag flying, so to speak.

I had a most intriguing conversation this morning about the French pronoun 'on'. My converationalist could not for the life of him understand why it could be translated as 'we', because as far as he was concerned, 'on' is 'one' and 'we' is more than 'one'. He does have a point.

Until Wednesday night, then,

Goodnight.

Good evening, one and all, not least to our Follower in Vietnam.

Just a quick post tonight, as I have quite a number of e-mails to respond to, and to say that I'm sorry I wasn't around to greet all of you when you returned, as I was required to be at a 5th Years' Parents' Evening, and secondly to say that if your particular LM is under the weather for whatever reason, please pass on lots of love from Mrs C and me. (Yes, Mr Aldred, 'me' is the right pronoun there. Sorry, parents: in-'joke'. We're both members of the English department, you see.)

I hope you all had as good a time as Mrs C and me (tick again): with the sun shining so brilliantly today, it was difficult to do otherwise..

Anyway, more tomorrow, and all is well here.

Goodnight.

I'm so sorry, I clean forgot to welcome our new Official Follower, who is known only anonymously! Your membership, madam/sir, has pushed the OF number to 35, which is most encouraging!

Tonight has been good night (that alludes to a song, as I'm sure you'll agree) with a happy band, and a not entirely unsuccesful one on the pitches, either. I was acting manager for the 5th XV, and we won 45 - 0, which was very enjoyable. I told my opposite number, before the match began, that I was retiring in July, and that the match would probably be the last one at which I oficiated, and he generously said that he would be nice and kind. Which, dear Followers, he was, as you can see by the score line. (I daren't admit now that, having looked at the Calendar, I see that there are two more to go, in fact.)

Talking of sports results, am I alone in getting annoyed by the sports reporters who yell their early morning reports across the airwaves first thing in the morning? It really gets my goat, as my late dad used to say. I listen with interest to the measured pace of the excellent Simon Jack, who does the business news at 6.15, and then the calm and collected Rob or Gary come on the line to update us in general, and then they hand over to one of their football correspondents who bellows at me. This morning's report about Chelsea v. Birmingham was a case in point. Log on to the Today programme and listen on iPlayer to the report broadcast at around 6.27am, and see what I mean. I mean, honestly. It's enough to make one want to get out of bed. Which I do. But I can do without the yelling.

That programme about Cornish fishermen that I told you about last week is proving to be incredibly popular. Almost all the LMs wanted to watch it, and hot choc and biscuits made one feel a little warmer than those poor souls who go out into the high seas and come back back with a couple of crabs and a few mackerel in their boat.

Eh bien, there we are, so, as Thursday's not a bloglog night and we're on short leave until Sunday night, I will bid you au revoir.

Goodnight.

Yay! I've reached another milestone! This is post number 470, so just 30 more to go before I reach my goal! So, wherever you may be located around the world - and I was fascinated to see from my stats that while I'm writing this, we have a Follower from the Ukraine tuning in, so greetings to you, sir/madam, and greetings, too, to our Follower in Canada, especially as I don't think your country has featured on my stats page before.

It seems to have been an encouraging day all round, really, not least because when I nipped over to the Tesco Express after supper, just before doing my nightly constitutional around the block, which is part of my daily exercise routine (it's just over a mile), in order to avail myself of an excellent half-price offer on Isla Negra Sauvignon (usually any half-price offer means they can't sell it because it's rubbish), I presented the bottle to the cashier (because if I try the do-it-yourself machine it always goes wrong and then everyone gets cross, which is embarrassing), and the good gentleman enquired of me whether I was over 18. I replied in the affirmative, feeling rather flattered, and he then asked me if I had a Tesco Club Card. I told him that I wasn't old enough. He told me that 'that was quite enough of that', so, like a chastened Newtonian after lights out, my smugness was extinguished and I left Tesco's somewhat deflated.

Which wouldn't have been so bad, except that the bleeper went off as I made my exit, causing the security gentleman to raise his eyebrows as I made a face that only a Newtonian can make when an injustice appears to have been done, but I looked helplessly at the cashier who had just taken £4.99 from me (I told you it was a good offer), who kindly - and swiftly - switched the bleeping thing off, which enabled me to block-walk and think about what I was going to blog-log about.

Whilst watching the News this morning, prior to the LMs' departure, we were watching the News. I did think, though, while watching, of the recent (well, quite recent) advertising campaign that invited elderly people who were afraid of computers to get involved with others who could help and advise. One could send off for a self-help pack, or, guess what, one could log on to www. ..... !!

Shoe-cleaning of black shoes took place tonight, and there were three worthy winners, and the refreshment was pink wafers and digestives, and apple juice. I tried to convince one self-confessed non-cheese eater that if he combined cheese with a digestive biscuit he would enjoy it. He said he wouldn't. I invited him and his mates to come into our kitchen and try it, but he still declined, which left the tasting to others, who seemed to like the combination I recall from camping holidays of my early youth - and my solo trip around Denmark in the MG when I ran out of funds. (It was 1975, and I was only allowed to take £50 in the first place! Remember those days .... ? Oh, no: of course, you wouldn't. I tend to forget ...... !)

Goodnight.

Good evening, one and all, and I hope you've had a good Sunday.

In conversation with one of you yesterday, I was interested to learn something that I, as your faithful blogger, hadn't noticed: namely that my recent posts have started to get a little nostalgic. I said that I supposed that was inevitable, and that as the tape begins to appear in view, there were bound to be one or two moments when one thinks back over the past four decades, for whatever reason. Coincidentally, I received an e-mail from a pupil of the 70s only yesterday, who told me that he's now living in Denmark and coming up to his 50th birthday ... !

Anyway, I musn't allow nostalgic wallowing to become the norm, so I will try to remain on track and tell you about your own LMs!

Tonight was a lively evening, accompanied as it was by decent snacks and juice, as well as Countryfile, which is surprisingly popular, and then Top Gear, which never fails to please most. Including yours truly, as you know.

Having discretely (or discreetly, depending on which OED spelling you favour) walked around the lodge, making it abundantly clear that I was at the helm, and that all LMs had made eye contact with me, and then sneaked off to the HMDr, where the HM himself was holding one of his post-Chapel suppers for the preacher, the excellent Warden of St Edward's, who, I thought, praught splendidly. It was well worth it, for the nosh was outstandingly good, and there was plenty of convivial convo to be had, too. I returned as instructed by my Ubergrupenfuhrerein, which meant that she could get over there for the pud - which looked pretty good, too.

Only trouble was that when I returned I learnt that members of Osprey dorm had decided to be a little uber-excited, and that their lights out (with the exception of three who had not engaged in such frivolity) had happened a little on the early side.

Until tomorrow, then,

Goodnight.

Good evening, all, and bienvenue to all those of you who are reading this in France tonight, as I see that 17 of you are! My apologies, dear Ukrainian friends, for not knowing how to welcome you, but you, too, are most welcome.

I usually try to keep a note of things I want to tell you about, and tonight's list features several of the items from tonight's television news. But more of that in a moment.

Tonight I spent an engaging ten minutes displaying my own versatility with international accents, and enjoying that of some of your offspring, too. I competed against an upper bunker as far as my Russian accent was concerned (although he had overlooked the fact that there's no definite article in Russian, so I think I was victorious with that one, as we pretended to be Russian spies from the Cold War, but I nearly had to concede defeat as far as my attempts at a Scottish accent were concerned, because even though my Duncan Bannatyne impressions (that should push the stats number up) are pretty good, viz: 'I don't like you; I don't like your idea and your company is rubbish so I'm out', my competitor's efforts were equally as good, with an accent that was rehearsed, apparently, north of the Border.

As far as the news items are concerned, I began to think that I was living in a parallel universe when Jon Snow (more increased stats) was regaling me with what was going on internationally. If you didn't know me better, you'd think I was about to be admitted into the nearest, er, um, better be careful, because I don't think I can use the term I was about to use, any longer, without fear of being incarcerated somewhere else - if I were to inform you that Engelbert Humperdink was this year's chosen Eurovision candidate, and the Prime Minister had been riding a horse. Oh get real. Does anyone really care if the PM has been galloping around the countryside on the back of a questionable quadruped? 'It's all to do with symbolism', we learn from the excellent Channel 4 correspondent, who did admit that he and his colleagues had been having a (particularly apposite) field day: which is useful, because if so I can incorporate the saga into my English lessons.

As for Englebert, well, there's a nice touch of nostalgia for us all. I don't know the gentleman himself, but I do (did) know Morton Harket (up go the stats again) of Aha fame, whose daughter did herself feature on Eurovision. She's a Facebook friend of both Hannah and Tom - which is nice.

I'll let you know the stats number tomorrow night.

Goodnight.