Peter seemed quite pleased with the genuine, positive comments I had made on his programme notes. If nothing else the effort to persuade the Lawleys to switch has extended my knowledge of the business as well as of human nature, which two, of course are intimately entwined. Referring to folk song Louis Armstrong is reputed to have said 'Well I never heard a horse sing', and of course, no horse ever ran a business either, nor even became a customer of one run by humans.

Tango last night was predictably lovely. Now the class is split and we are a small, relatively experienced group I feel progress will be faster. A compact class, regular post class sessions at the Faze Cafe and the 'mango' in less than a month - all these can only mean good progress in prospect. Must go to a salsa class tomorrow - the only question is whether it should be Wilson's or Carlos'. I need some inspiration for the students' sessions due to be start again on Friday.

Shall go cold calling at the shops in Radford tomorrow, armed with Tony G's questionnaire. With Bilbo. work on Friday and Monday must make best use of available time. It is both instructive and relaxing to read Dominic Sandbrook, but must now face the as yet, lesser opus of 'Paradise Delayed' and see what amendments are needed to bring it closer to the greeat storytelling standard set by Sandbrook.

Three days, three fulfilling days and evenings have passed. 'What a joy it is to dance and sing' Thus the closing line of 'Wise Children'. I was back doing both on Friday night; choir practice at Southwell and salsa at the Comfort Hotel. As before the highlight was bachata with Anna, for all that there were many other superb dancers there that night. Much of Saturday was spent reading and preparing the two addresses for Burns Night. It was lovely to hear 'Ye Banks and Braes' and 'My Love is like a red,red, rose', but I thoroughly enjoyed introducing the diners to Burns raucous and sensual side. With three clergymen present the several references to the Bible and the Kirk were, I hope, apposite.

As I write all laundry and home chores are more or less up to date and the Lawleys as fully informed as I can manage, on the savings available to them on energy and telecoms bills. Peter has a determination to appear the canny chooser of services, and his reluctance to recognise the UWDC savings has led him first, to misreading things, and thence to serial misunderstandings and obstinacy.

It's a pride thing; the same pride which obliges him to imagine himself some sort of guru or consultant on the book trade. Still, for all that, he's a good mate of long standing. If some power, to paraphrase Burns, allowed us all to see ourselves as others see us, we may be freed from many a blunder, but, respecting the unalterable, we might also suffer more than usual embarrasment. Tango tonight; but before then I must complete all the UWDC marketing chores I have listed for the day.

I had intended, yesterday afternoon, to commence this entry with 'What a difference a day makes'. At the time I had envisaged finishing the day dancing at 'The Approach'. In the event I was genuinely overcome, by 10.30pm, with tiredness, and retired to bed and fell asleep straightway. Recovery has not been quite as dramatic as I had thought.

Nevertheless, the Bilborough day, covering for Business Studies and Economics, was quite pleasant. Though I had little to do, and am expert in neither, I have, as a self employed person of long standing, and as one who reads, for pleasure, the classics in the economist's library, a modest understanding of both disciplines. This gave me confidence to answer the students' queries.

During breaks I was able to complete the reading of the 'debate' book about the Apocalyptic Jesus and forward some jottings thereon to home. Thus my ref. to Peter Lawley in this entry is comprehensively positive. His trashing of my woeful 'Jesus' chapter was followed up with his recommendation of Thomas Sheehan's itunes lectures. These lectures led to my reading four magnificent and enlightening books recommended by that prof., which will inform my revised version. That can be started in earnest tomorrow. The ambiguity of the 'Kingdom of God' references in the gospels was recognised by Schweitzer, Sheehan, Dominic Crossan and all four contributors to the Apocalyptic Jesus book. What is more the David and Solomon legends seem to have grown in a similar fashion to the Jesus myths. History is projected backwards in order that the past will fit with today's narrative. I know this now thanks to the Finkelstein and Silverman book on those two kings, also recommended by Prof. Sheehan.

Norman Davies pointed out this 'writing history backwards' phenomenon in his intro. to 'The Isles'. King Alfred can be listed as a direct forebear of Elizabeth II. Genetically, certainly this is the case. His kingdom, however, was a much smaller territory and his political power of an entirely different nature. There were many kings and chieftains in these Isles during the 9th century and Alfred was but one. David and Solomon may have had independepence from Assyria, Egypt and the Philistines, rather greater in scale than some of their neighbours, but the magnificence, the heroism, the wisdom, the musical and poetical talent expressed in the psalms and the 'global' reputation; these were the stuff of epic dreams and stories, set down in writing during the Persian occupation and, most significant of all, bound in the great work that was to become the basis of The Bible.

Before then I have to get the signature on a 'line form' for a new UWDC customer, prepare a speech to the Immortal Memory of Robert Burns, revise my Scottish dances, continue to get clued up about UWDC terms, tariffs and technicalities. There's a new guitar pupil starting tonight and also, as ever, a pile of ironing. With last week's Southwell rehearsal missed through that malady I will have to revise the dots as well.

One other piece of good news. The salsa lunchtime sessions will be required this term, so there must be plenty of dancing this weekend in preparation.

Sure this is self censored. Some things I do are too stupid even to confess to myself never mind the wider world. Recording a dismal and mediocre day may serve some purpose, if only to remind myself that not all was wasted. I have nearly finished the last 'Jesus' book, (though accidentally left it at Bilborough) and just now commenced Olly's Christmas token book by Stephen Pinker.His style skips along, unlike my Jesus chapter. At least, during an uninspiring Bilborough 'cover' day, meeting other teachers' 'coursework pressured' students I was able to write afew reformed paragraphs and read a couple of chapters. I complain sometimes about Peter but am so glad he slagged off the Jesus chapter. It is knee deep in the mud of marginal political machinations. A big sweep (with due references to sources for those who may seek detail at some stage) is what is required.

A 'phone call from John to confirm Devon dates made me realise that he may read a fast paced book on my subject for all that he detests organised (and probably disorganised) religion. He would be put off though by the clutter of that chapter as currently drafted. He also asked about my mobile tariff, which reminded me how few UWDC details I have absorbed. Of course one cannot memorise everything, but I do need a broad outline. His call also reminded me of my still rundown, convalescent state. Most days I am ready to dance at any time. Today the idea seems quite alien. I feel leaden.

Let us hope the most exceptional feature of today's post is its relative gloom. At least I got to Bilborough. On Sunday I felt so low I had anticipated writing off an entire week.

Am finally surfacing from three days of inertia, sleep and fragility. Perhaps that was real (as opposed to 'man') flu. The most strenuous activities I could manage were soup making and reading. This week will be a new beginning, especially on the writing and Utility Warehouse fronts. Tony's script for friends and colleagues I shall deploy, as well as regular attendance at COPs and the like. I believe Lorna may even trust me now. For years she has thought of me as naive and unworldly; the contretemps in Shirley's presence was a breakthrough in at least two aspects. Even Tariq's self image of omniscience has been dented a little. He has at last realised that he may know a little less about my upbringing than I do; and, even more significant, he seems to acknowledge that as someone who has never been to a Kingdom Hall nor read a single book about the Jehovah's Witnesses, his assertion that JWs are the same as all the other religions may not be sustainable.

I shall give tango a miss tonight, but should be able to make myself of genuine use to tonight's music pupils. I must, however, start going to salsa classes once more or my repertoire of moves, far from expanding, will instead, atrophy.

Talking to Tony Griffiths on the 'phone was most refreshing. I shall be more assertive henceforth with friends and family; Lorna already seems at last willing to sign up. I must resist the temptation to correct Peter Lawley's wilful misconceptions, his determination not to understand the nature and the cheap tariif of 'Broadcall', as he is at least taking the time (albeit an awful lot of time) to read and comment on 'Paradise Delayed'. His obstinate attitude could even be seen as an asset in that regard. If adjustments are made in order to get through to one of his mindset, then the potential readership could be increased.

And boy, is his mind set. It is best exemplified by his references to himself as 'working class'. Seems that sacred and venerable epithet can survive a transition to 'classless' new Labour. I do not doubt that, in his ancestry, there are some worthy (or maybe even some unworthy) proletarians. 'Prole' however, describes Peter about as well as Orthodox Polish rabbi or Devonian aristocrat describes me.

In 'Goodbye to all That', Robert Graves recounts his introduction to class consciousness. Consigned to a fever hospital he found himself, aged c. six, for the first time in his life, amongst a 'crowd of little proletarians'. He would not have spotted the class difference himself, had not the nurses singled him out and fawned on him as 'a proper little gentleman.' Graves' father was a school inspector and hence, a member, in Graves' words, of 'the governing class'. The status of school inspectors has, if anything, risen since Edwardian days. It is Ofsted Inspectors who make or break the careers of others, who indirectly determine the price of property, and, a reflection perhaps on a desperate wish for official approval, whose advent has been cited as the cause of teachers' nervous breakdowns. Even if one's class identity is indelibly imprinted during childhood, impervious to subsequent rises and falls, then Polytechnic Principals were surely, in the fifties and sixties, part of a similarly ranked governing stratum.

The 'phone has not rung yet, so a nominal retainer plus guitar fees will be my income for today. At least I feel in reasonable condition this morning. Yesterday I awoke feeling quite faint and with a stabbing stomach pain. That did not prevent some attempts at telemarketing, a postive UWDC intro. to all the staff at the dentist when I went for a checkup and an hour's dancing towards midnight. And now a postive gloss on Peter. He passed on a recommendation from a writers' course he attended 20 years ago. 'Broaden your reading during research far beyond the subject and style in question'. John Crossan certainly drew on the literary world beyond history, sociology and theology when he described Josephus' attempts to paint himself as 'the very model of a modern Roman General'.

I must now set to a day of card distribution, a long delayed visit to Medina and the purchase of a book with Olly's Waterstone's present.

A glimmer of interest from a housing association made my 'cold calling' seem worthwhile. I decided to revise the UWDC Business Tariffs and provisions before going to town and seeing Khaled of Medina en route. At least those two short 'phoning hours blew any 'phone phobia away. Wrong people answering, mystification or total disinterest are the worst one can hear, and none is at all painful; with the calls costing nothing I have nothing to lose; there is though the possibility of long term gain.

Tony Griffiths sent a welcome circular letter to his 'team'. I enquired about Ron, amongst other points in my reply. There's a blog attached to the team website so I may well send some comments there. With Ron as my invisible, inert and totally negative 'sponsor' it's good to know there is life (and money making) in that direction, if only at a little greater distance. I look forward to any reply Tony might have time to make.

John Crossan's book is terrific. It points out the salient features of Josephus, which I had missed, drowned as I felt in a sea of violence, superstition and power struggle. Crossan attempts to create the history of Jewish anti Roman protest from the point of view of Jesus' peasant contemporaries, using written records, which by their very nature can only come from the ruling, governing and priestly classes. His initial chapter on 'peasant culture' in the 1st century
Mediterrannean could only quote letters from the Egyptian labouring classes. Literacy rate was high in Egypt and dry sand is a great preservative of papyrus.

I'll be too tired to write a paragraph plan for 'Jesus' or do much about Burns Night but will sign off now and play the guitar. Another day's Bilborough work came from Geraldine.