I've discovered the diarist's dilemma. It is this: one has the most time for writing long entries when there's not much happening. When lots and lots of interesting things are going on, there's jack-all time to write the long entries needed to do events justice. I've therefore come to the conclusion that all diarists are frauds who make up most of their stuff. There's no way Pepys was wandering the streets of the City as the Great Fire got going - he'll have been running around burying his valuables, checking his insurance and hosing down his mistresses. All the stuff he says he saw must be pure invention.

So, yeah, there's been a lot on. Last Friday was the sixth form Christmas do - Karena and I were the entertainment, along with DJ DMD and his (slightly dusty) wheels of steel. Then a most enjoyable Saturday was topped off with tea at my parents-in-laws' place, and all I've done today is play the piano in prep for helping Dave with his choir practice tomorrow night.

Oh, Richard Anderson got his job back. So the BGS governors were either (a) merely stupid to sack him in the first place (possible); (b) right to sack him, then craven enough to cave in under pressure to reinstate him (possible in similar cases - not in Richard's); or (c) stupid enough to believe (wrongly) that they were right to sack him *then* craven enough to cave in under pressure to reinstate him. To my mind (c) is by far the most likely option, as with one or two honourable exceptions they're all small businessmen and/or Tory councillors who have that wonderful combination of small-mindedness and anxiety for their own miserable hides that makes the governance of small towns so thoroughly incompetent.