Monday

A slightly morbid thought: there must be blogs floating around out there belonging to dead people. There's no time limit on posting. It's a bit like all those unused underground stations that feature in Bond films.

Ah - Edmund wakes. He's got very odd sleeping patterns. He doesn't seem to sleep for any great length of time, but naps for a bit, then goes for a run around his tubes, then comes back up to his nest again and curls up. He's nibbling rocket leaves at the moment and bits of wholemeal bread (Jamie brought it yesterday - putting it to much better use than eating it).

In tribute to Dave's tribute:

“Old Professors never die, they just lose their faculties.” (Stephen Fry)