In which our brave Librarian makes peace with Germany but not with the Catering Corps

So I got into work nice and early this week with lots of plans in my head, only to find the Professor tucked neatly into a (newly re-upholstered) armchair, reading the day's papers.  Said professor - delightful fellow though he was, insisted on detaining me to discuss the latest developments in engineering and academic publishing, which I decided almost counted as work, so I passed a pleasant half-hour with him before going about my business.

This included writing a digitization strategy for the benefit of the chaps over in the Indies and writing an essay on the activities of a certain Captain Burgess who wrote over 100 letters of complaint to the CO here back in 1873. Needless to say, he was eventually removed from his post, but not before a great debate was had on whether having a cigar in one's mouth was proof that one was actually smoking (a dispute that foreshadowed a legal argument involving a certain President Clinton and his friend Monica Lewinsky by some a century or so I believe).


Progress was further slowed this week by the activities of my old nemesis: the Catering Corps, who strategically placed a Cash Bar just outside my luxury office suite (aka the Broom Cupboard) preventing my egress into the main body of my library. I contemplated a raid on said bar, but was dissuaded from doing so by the presence of Russell the Barman, a man whose charms I was completely disarmed by and who I do not want to treat as an enemy in case I ever need a sneaky G&T.

By the way: I suspect the enemy of trying to infiltrate the Library Committee, as a new member has appeared whose former career as a German U-boat commander has put some of the old chaps on their guard. Not me though: forgive and forget I say - we're all friends now (except the Catering Corps of course).

Toodle pip