Back by popular demand...

I've bowed to public opinion and decided to continue to finger update. Here you can see that the lower half of the nail has totally come away now, and the black scab continues to advance. I suspect that it'll all be over by Christmas and we'll be living under the glorious new regime of healed fingernail.

In all seriousness, it's little things like this that remind me how amazing the human body is. The ability to replace wounded and broken parts out of nothing? It's almost as if there were some amazing kind of mind behind it all...


Also back by popular demand - Eddie! This photo was taken by one of our freelance journalists (me) about a week ago. I have no way of knowing if this is the original Eddie or a scaly imposter. There's no real way of knowing at this stage. Or at any stage to be honest. I mean, how do you tell lizards apart anyway?


This weekend will be Cornerstone's thirtieth muster. The muster is an annual gathering for the current Cornerstone students and staff to mark the end of the year and commission people for future events. Because Cornerstone is thirty years old this year it's going to be a massive event with ex-students and ex-staff invited too. It's predicted that there will be around five or six hundred people present, which is only a fraction of the total number of people who have been linked with Cornerstone over the years. It should be good.


I'm writing this on Tuesday 27th November, which is Calvin's fifth birthday. He's been very excited by events. Plenty of presents and a nice birthday party, and Ruth worked her usual birthday cake magic. He did cry when he didn't win musical statues though. I think that when it's your birthday and you're the centre of attention you probably expect only good things to happen. He was fine by the end of the party, of course, but it's always a traumatic thing for a parent to be at a birthday party and your child is the only one crying. Especially if it's his party. Double especially if he's crying because he isn't winning every game that you play. I blame the parents.

Next time I'll write I'll be able to tell you how the muster went. Have a good week.