cut down the mightiest tree in the forest with ... a herring

I just wandered out of my office to discover that the road outside our building had unexpectedly transformed itself into a smallish grove, or largish copse. Closer inspection revealed that this was, in fact, about 50 shrubs in pots on the back of a trailer. This is presumably in honour of the university open day tomorrow, possibly in order to provide camouflage from the safety of which all the lurking academics can gnash their teeth at the passing youth. One has to wonder, though, at the fact that Western civilisation has reached a point where some managerial Power muses, "Gosh, how can we make our university's academic cred appeal to potential students? I know! Bring me ... a shrubbery!"

This morning I braved the wilds of the airport in order to extricate the trunk containing my father's personal effects from the maw, or possibly claws, of various shipping agencies, customs officials and assorted chorus. This was a curiously Zen procedure owing to the strange prevailing religion which causes the Planner of Airports to set up signposts as hidden, occulted grails or shrines in some holy quest, rather than as any sort of guide of actual use to the traveller. My vaguely wandering circles did, in the end, bear fruit, although the trunk itself fits so exactly into the back of my car that I rather suspect I'm going to have to remove it with a can-opener. It's these little challenges that tell you you're worthy. Quite of what, history does not relate.

I would be more excited about the Fridayness of it all were I not destined to spend all of tomorrow explaining, slowly and clearly, faculty course structures to confused Matrics, probably from behind the safety of a smallish bush. I also have a family row scheduled for Sunday morning, which has caused my stomach to assume the position of the Gordian knot for most of the last week. On the upside, tonight jo&stv kidnap me for noodles and Coraline, which isn't actually quite as surreal as it sounds.