In which I arrive in Dorset with all the washing from Greece still to do

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In which airports are always stupendously exciting places.

In which the guard is changed and I must return to England tomorrow

In which I am skill at mountains in Meteora

In which the Temple of Apollo in Delphi stated on the pediment 'Nothingto excess' and 'Know yourself'. Beautiful advice

In which my son and I compete in the Ancient Olympics.

In which this morning we went to Byzantine Mystra and tonight we are atop a mountain above Ancient Olympia looking down to the sea

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In which we visit Mycenae, city rich in gold and Sparta

In which I visit Epidaurus

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In which today I saw the Temple of Olympian Zeus; Hadrian's arch; Plaka; the Acropolis Museum; Syntagma square and I went swimming in the Saronic Gulf. But I didn't have my iPhone for any of that so here's a picture of a kiosk.

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In which I am looking at the Saronic Gulf from my hotel in Athens

In which this is a visual metaphor for the end of term

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In which I am going 'money, tickets, passport'

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In which our kids dance

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In which, when I was 9, I packed a couple of Enid Blyton books for my summer holidays. However, PP has packed his e-reader, digital camera and Armani shades. Hang on, I am a lone parent - how come he has all this cool shiz?

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In which I never expected to be disappointed by PP's report, but I am. Not because of him: he's doing extremely well but because his class teacher can't be arsed to say 'well done' anywhere even though he has 100% attendance; is excelling is every area and is 'polite, articulate and helpful'. It is, at best, mealy-mouthed.

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In which I see manuscripts written by Hardy, Eliot, Bronte x3, the original Canterbury Tales, Orwell, Joyce, Blake, Dickens, Wordsworth, Austen, Blake; the Seafarer in the Exeter Book and countless first editions of novels and poems.

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In which this is the Boss

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In which all Leeds matches are plotted onto a spreadsheet because watching a bunch of millionaires kick a ball for an hour and a half is more important than seeing your child

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In which happiness is sharpening a class set of colouring pencils

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In which sentiment is cast aside and a decision reached as to which trainers to sacrifice in the mud of Hyde Park for the Boss

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In which if there were no volcanoes there would be no orange squash

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In which I say basically the same thing 30 times until 7pm

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In which I can't take the pressure of Murray v Federer

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In which it's not quite Baywatch

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In which sports day got cancelled

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In which at T-15 the serious task of holiday wardrobe planning has commenced

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In which it is an exciting day when cheese arrives unexpectedly through the post, though, I confess, I rather hope the reason the person thought of me was that I am famed for my pesto and cheese consumption rather than the name of the farm

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In which it is arguable that one of the main rites of passage is when a small boy gets his first camera

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In which, if in future people are dismissive of social networking and of how it has a negative impact on real relationships, I will smile and remember an act of totally voluntary kindness when a Twitter friend recorded and sent me something vital for my teaching, just out of the goodness of his heart.

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In which my naturally curly, frizzy, orange fuzz, Crystal Tips, absolutely-blooming-massive hair was keratin treated, straightened and Brazillian Blow dried yesterday. It took a silly amount of money and time but look at the change. The acid test: first time I wash it myself.

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