Sunday morning

This end of Sunday should be all about sleep, but I woke up to the sound of short people having fun in the bedroom next door. So up I got, corrected a colleague's biography (there wasn't much to correct; these Eastern Europeans are phenomenal linguists) and looked in vain for an old, second-hand iPod on the internet (impossible to find, at least for me). Now Mrs. F is also up, so I'll make breakfast. Then it'll be time to go to work. Don't mind me, I'm just wittering.