We slept deeply, and I rose well-rested and ready to resume a responsible schedule of morning running. I didn’t time this morning, but made the mile-point-four course at a steady pace with no particular discomfort. Morning Prayer, hot breakfast, Morning Worship on Radio Four till Margaret came downstairs and rejected it. We wandered in to the city centre to attend Mass at Mary Mags, came home, and that old demon lassitude struck us again. After a valiant struggle, we conceded and watched two more pairs of episodes of Dicte, separated by dinner from Majliss. Tomorrow ends the general interval of holiday time and redirects us toward academic labour, just when we were getting the hang of being relaxed.