Shrink?... Shrunk!... Lifted.

Here in Barton, I see blue sky beyond a brittle beech tree.

An unambiguously good day yesterday.

Went over to the big city at lunch time. Played my weekly game of football ('soccer'). Scored a really good goal. Bit like Marco van Basten's in the 1988 Euro Championships final. Only the purest sort of football anorak will still be with me now, so let's push on together - you and I. Played the game in temperatures of 1 degree celcius (34 fahrenheit). At the end, it felt like my 'manhood' had shrunken to something pre-boyhood. Praise Bea for hot showers.

Later, saw 4'11" supervisor. Said what I wanted to say. Heard what I'd wanted to hear. She was good. All encouraging, full of belief - despite acknowledging doubts of a few months ago, and sharing praise from third parties. Also made sound comments re the viva process. Gave me a boost. Lifted.

Later still, had tea with Catherine and Gemma. Was referred to by Gemma (4) as "My Shane" and "Our good friend". Heart-warming stuff. Bit odd though - what with me expecting to become a less frequent visitor upon the arrival of new Catherine-bloke, new Shane-bird, or one of us one relocating. Ridiculous sequence of thoughts I know. It's what I do.

A robin just landed in the beech tree.