A weekend of unhurried chores, with a liberal dose of music and dance is in progress. With domestic decks clear by tomorrow morning I should be ready to assault the accounts and UWDC prospects' estimates.

We sampled at Southwell last night the genius of William Byrd, and at the Comfort Hotel I enjoyed again the magical experience of whirling round the dance floor with Anna. Her flying fluidity is exceptional, even in a room full of accomplished and exciting dance partners.

Tariq's old school friend has kindly sent me a selection of tango music, downloaded from Argentine Radio on to CD. I will listen tomorrow when refreshed and alert. It is gratifying, reading Geza Vermes' books on Jesus, that in my modest reading and study I have reached, independently, some of the same conclusions as this lifelong, Jesus obsessed scholar.

Friday morn at Bilborough was interesting, an opportunity to introduce the students to my family's direct connection with the bad guys on their syllabus. Little Louis was rather tired during his lesson but gamely persevered. An ex Bilborough student called round at teatime and persuaded me to donate regularly to a deaf children's charity. If nothing else she was a great example of successful salesmanship. She worked regular door knocking hours and had learned to make the best of every eventuality. What's more she provided an interlude of interesting conversation. Her middle name of Quetzal, the Mexican bird of paradise, I certainly do remember.

Time now to finish both the ironing and Geza Vermes on the Changing Faces of Jesus.