"Gawd bless her, and all who sail in her."

Ah, "Severe delays on the Northern Line": words to warm the heart of any commuter in the north of London, and so unusual, too.

Yet here I am, in the office, at precisely the same time I get in most days. Yes, the tube was a little fuller than usual, and yes, the herd exited precipitously at Camden Town to find anything that might take them to Bank, but my journey was uneventful and swift.

Armed with a seat, my Network Walkman, and the inner calm of someone who is actively hoping to be delayed, I managed to sail with Buddha-like serenity down to Euston and thence to Victoria. Of course, this doesn't mean that I'm not sloping off early tonight.

The flags are flying today. London always looks a bit brighter with the sun shining and a bit of the old red, white and blue fluttering around the flagpole. I daresay that there will be a few sherbets cracked at the palace tonight as it is Her Majesty's 79th birthday today. The real one, not the official one. Had we thought this out in advance, we could have offered to double up with DT sans LJ's birthday do at the weekend. They could have supplied the space, and we could have brought a crate of cider along.

Happy birthday then, Brenda. It's Phil's round and don't forget to walk the dogs.

"Gawd bless her, and all who sail in her."

Ah, "Severe delays on the Northern Line": words to warm the heart of any commuter in the north of London, and so unusual, too.

Yet here I am, in the office, at precisely the same time I get in most days. Yes, the tube was a little fuller than usual, and yes, the herd exited precipitously at Camden Town to find anything that might take them to Bank, but my journey was uneventful and swift.

Armed with a seat, my Network Walkman, and the inner calm of someone who is actively hoping to be delayed, I managed to sail with Buddha-like serenity down to Euston and thence to Victoria. Of course, this doesn't mean that I'm not sloping off early tonight.

The flags are flying today. London always looks a bit brighter with the sun shining and a bit of the old red, white and blue fluttering around the flagpole. I daresay that there will be a few sherbets cracked at the palace tonight as it is Her Majesty's 79th birthday today. The real one, not the official one. Had we thought this out in advance, we could have offered to double up with DT sans LJ's birthday do at the weekend. They could have supplied the space, and we could have brought a crate of cider along.

Happy birthday then, Brenda. It's Phil's round and don't forget to walk the dogs.