The Opening of the Library has become a daily ritual in my life now. It's almost assumed religious significance as I enter the Temple of Bookworms and quietly wait for the monks guarding the lower chamber to unlock the fold-away doors to the Inner Sanctum upstairs.

Not any more. yesterday the guard, whom I've not seen before, opened the coffee bar and told the faithful that they'll just have to walk around the staircase. What? Have we erred? Are we being punished for our sins?

Groan. Oh well. Like everyone else I joined the throng ambling around the stairwell. AM was there, and as always, whinging, though I have to say this time he had a point. Once upstairs I sat down at my usual cubicle and began logging on. AM stomped past me on his crutches and making sure I heard, loudly proclaimed that "These limey's just don't get it."

Trust me, AM, I got it a long while back. You were the bloke who used to bully people off your favourite PC. I suspect you were no different when you were serving in the armed forces in your youth, which you like to make a big deal of. That's why I don't listen to you. There are heroes and casualties more deserving.

Celebration of the Week

Saint George stood outside the library in his medieval armour, looking quite magnificent in his crusader style helm and surcoat. Now there's a legend that the good Sir Knight fought a dragon at Uffington, a few miles away to the southeast, so I guess our town has every right to majke a big thing of his birthday. George was standing there in front of me almost fifteen feet high. Big lad. Poor old dragon never stood a chance.