Post number 380, so I won't be able to make it to the magic 400 this term, I fear. I probably could have done if I hadn't been so pusillanimous in not jotting something down on the evenings when Mrs C and/or I have been out, but, well, c'est la vie, je suppose.

As for last night, the less said about that the better, really. I fear there was a bit of an 'issue' about the way in which films are watched, culminating, unfortunately, in the abandonment of the cinematic pleasures that were on offer. Being boys, of course, while there was a certain amount of indignation at the time, the whole episode (!) had been forgotten by this morning, and all was back on track.

Tonight has been a joy, and no-one has put a foot wrong ......!

Hannah C has just taken off for Nairobi, I see from the Heathrow website, having taken her to the airport this afternoon, and when she arrives in Kenya tomorrow morning she will have just one hour to make a connecting flight to Zanzibar, where she'll be staying for the next month, teaching English for a charitable organisation out there. I think I told you that. She has a slight worry, though, as although she's been booked on the connecting flight, she doesn't, as yet, have a seat - so I suspect, from my own experiences travelling in other continents, that overbooking might be a feature here. Fingers crossed that all will be well.

I'm off to Dr Dean's end of year English department bash now, and Mrs C and Miss Alex will be at the helm. It was good to see some of you at the Leavers' events today, and I hope you enjoyed them as much as we did.

Until tomorrow, then,

Goodnight.

Having just been asked whether my glasses are my own, or whether I am wearing braces (yes they are, and no I'm not) when I turned off the lights in Heron tonight, I did wonder whether the end of term was having a rather strange effect on all of us. Still, I suppose when the boys heard me say 'I have asked you once to stop talkingduring silent reading: that includes the bathroom', they might have wondered why I might have a bizarre idiosyncrasy that makes me want to speak to rooms in the lodge.

Mrs C's and my week of frantic activitity within and without the gates of SF culminated this morning in a mad dash to west Dorset, to attend Parents' Day at Milton Abbey. It was utterly glorious, with a lovely service in the Abbey, wonderful speeches from the HM and his assistants, drinks on the house lawn - and there would have been much more besides, including the valedictory ball tonight, but we thought we might have extended our away-day licence if we'd stayed any longer. So back we came, so that Mrs C could dive back into the form room for a 3.15pm lesson.

I forgot to tell you that the only drama of my London trip was that I was knocked down by a bicycle just outside the Palace of Westminster, and having seen a camera crew only metres away I couldn't help but think that I'd be featuring, in a less high-profile way than planned, on 'You've Been Framed'! I'm still suffering from a very painful right shin, though, and this is making me walk like an old man. No comments required.

Tom C has 'borrowed' the Peugeot again to go to his Old Boys' Day in Bath and Hannah and Alice have gone down to Xi'an to celebrate their re-union after nine weeks without seeing each other. And guess whose card they've 'borrowed'! (With per, I must add.) They won't have much time together, though, because Hannah's off to Zanzibar on Sunday, to teach English for a charitable organisation out there.

It all awaits you - if you haven't already been round the block .....

Goodnight.

My dear Followers, It was indeed a brilliant evening, and we had such great fun after a hugely successful Expeditions Day, and the bonus to to the night was the discovery that a former pupil of mine is now the manager of the estate agents Breckon and Breckon in Summertown! We plan to get together very soon.

I must admit that I thought last night's post was a tad queeny: I blame Messrs Randolph, Bryan and Faber - for leading me astray.

Mr Porter has been at the helm tonight. Good man.

Goodniight.

You must despair of your sons' lodgemeister: you log on every night, loyal followers that you are, to see that there's nothing there. I am so sorry - and I hope you can forgive.

Tonight was a very special night. You know how, sometimes, things just click? Well tonight was one of those. I returned from a very convivial time at the staff room annexe, with my friends Randolph and Bryan, during which we endeavoured to outdo each other with our private tutoring stories (Mr R outdoing us both with consummate ease for royal reasons) to an LM who, to my great surprise and delight flung his arms around his lodgemeister and thanked me for 'a brilliant year'! It was I who thanked him for being so brilliant, and I confess that I had to retire for a few minutes while reaching for the Kleenex in the kitchen.

As for last night, well, I have to confess that there was no post simply because I was, frankly, and not to put too fine a point on the matter, knackered. I think I'd tried to be a little over ambitious over the weekend and beyond, and that's never wise. I must tell you, though, that one of the plusses that has come out of the various activities is that I connected with the British Council, and, following my follow-up, they have said that they might like me to act as one of their consultants, which is rather exciting!

Tomorrow is Expeditions Day, in which Mrs C and I will be off to Warwick Castle, and then in the evening we're hosting a party for all of our colleagues - in the Newton garden, we hope. If the weather holds, it will be a good do. Here's hoping.

Goodnight.

Well, as days go, I suppose it was a bit of a curate's egg. So first, my apologies to those of you who loyally tuned in to Radio 4 to hear me speaking, and did not hear me. Long story, but in brief, the minibus from Dulwich College took rather longer than it should have done, and so we were allocated only about three minutes, which didn't really afford many opportunities for question! Still, you will have heard something about the project and ...............

.............. it was immensely humbling to have the opportunity to speak in Parliament, and to spread the word. The founder of the College, Dr Ahmad Sarmast, was very, very kind, in front of the media from around the world, and I know that I can tell you - and that you will understand - that I did feel a frisson of pride at having done something, however small, for the future of humanity. The College looks after a large number of orphaned, but musical children, and the images that accompanied Dr Sarmast's presentation really did bring tears to one's - OK, my - eyes. I wish you could have been there, so that you might understand something of this amazing project. My own role, which was to design the music curriculum for the place, took about 18 months, and it's wonderful to know that the whole place is now very much up and very much running. The facilities are amazing, and it goes from strength to strength.

Lunchtime brought an unexpected pleasure, as I found myself in a place called Le Pain Quotidien in Shepherd's Bush. Very nice, and effective in its simplicity, with lots of wooden tables, and plenty of evidence of fabulous French bread. A delicious salmon pate and a reasonable ( 6/10) quiche, with a glass of sauvignon blanc that seemed a touch chardonnay-ish to me, made for a very agreeable combination, and the coffee was superb. (I took a leaf out Matthew Norman's book and brought out my notebook, which ensured first-rate service. (!) I lost count of the number of napkins that were brought to me as one after the other tumbled to the floor!)

Anyway, that's that. Now I must give my time to your LMs. It's been a tad hectic recently, and I'd hate to think they'd missed out. So tonight we had a fairly liberal evening, with much hilarity in Curlew, foir various reasons! They are such wonderful company, and now that my portfolio of extraneous activity is over, I will re-focus between now and the end of term.

Goodnight.

Welcome to post number 375, dear Followers, and it was good to see some of you here tonight after what I hope has been a great weekend. I must confess that I did feel a little envious of those who were able to enjoy the sunshine of today, while I was closeted in an examination room, listening to performances of varying degrees of accomplishment!

Still, I didn't fail anyone, and I'm always well looked after by the authorities, who ply me with coffee, tea and a selection of biscuits that would happily grace the table in the HMDR on a Thursday morning. One of the, erm, more mature candidates was heavily pregnant, and I can't pretend that the thought of whether I might have to act as midperson didn't pass my mind. She was outstandingly good, though, and all was well.

Tonight's portfolio of things to do incorporated table tennis and Top Gear's new series, as well as plenty of happy banter between staff and LMs - although if I'm honest, the aforementioned banter wasn't quite so convivial about half an hour after lights out! (I do sympathise, however, because I remember how difficult it was to get to sleep when the weather was as it is at the moment.

I've written my speech for tomorrow afternoon in the H of C's Jubilee Room, and I can but hope that I won't, as the boys will have it, 'scuff up' during the World at One interview.

I'll tell you all about it tomorrow night.

Goodnight.

'Lord of the Rings' provided cinematic pleasure tonight, along with sweet rations and a whole barrow-load of fruit. No real classical stories to report, although we did have the Latin Reading competition this morning, which was a very classy affair, with the Head of Classics from Winchester adjudicating. I had to pinch myself to believe that the Latin being read (Catullus) was being declaimed by 13-year-olds, I must say!

The First Year's Coffee Concert was a most agreeable affair, too, with my little Junior Choir singing a song from the musical of 'Tom Sawyer' and many other little men performing splendidly on a variety of instruments. All very promising for the future, in my opinion, although sadly Mrs C and I won't be here to discover just how far the talent of the future will develop.

Talking of things musical, I shall be examining a group of students tomorrow afternoon. It reminds me of the professor at Trinity College of Music (which I did not attend) who examined a friend of mine on the organ at 2pm one afternoon in the 1970s.

'Ah. You must be X. Well, you may as well know: I never pass anyone after mid-day.' Of course, my friend passed happily and received his well-deserved Fellowship diploma.

Or the Oxford professor, who thought that a sensible way to mark papers would be to throw them down the stairs, with those that fell to the bottom coming last and those at the top coming top, with all the others in the middle. No, I don't use that method.

I'm wittering now. It's probably just nerves.

Goodnight.