As I suppose I might have realised, the Indian scamsters took advantage of the chance for a rummage to steal my address book: doubtless just about everyone who looks at this blog has by now received an invitation to buy dodgy Viagra. Sorry. Apart from that, we’ve had an interesting week. For a few days we left everything in the capable charge of the German Guests, and Guestlets, and spent much of the week in Aberdeen surrounded on all sides by manuscripts and incunables, as a result of which we now know a great deal more than we did about all sorts of things. The Guestlets turned out to be very sweet: one at the stage of life at which small boys resemble trains and run chuffing from end to end of the available space in straight lines, the other a baby I described, after five minutes’ acquaintance as ‘alarmingly mobile’, an assessment I saw no reason to revise. Quite the most precocious infant I’ve ever encountered, and clearly determined to walk as soon as her little legs would carry her, though meanwhile, achieving a turn of speed which makes ‘crawl’ seem not precisely the mot juste. They seem to have had a nice time — the animals liked them, and vice versa, and little Jakob apprenticed himself to Tony the Gardener. Tony was weeding in the pouring rain (wearing a waterproof boiler suit, I hasten to add) with Jakob solemnly following him about under a vast umbrella, wearing red spotted Wellingtons and looking like Christopher Robin. The gardener is ex-army and felicitously, proved to have remembered a good deal of German, so they were chatting away to each other. The German contingent left early this morning, and I hope are now in the air somewhere between London and Hanover — much missed by all, especially the dog.