The black and the yellow

A number of years ago I rather foolishly left my old college scarf on a train between London and Cambridge. I don’t have a history of leaving things on trains (well – actually I once left a piece of parchment on a train, prompting my great aunt to write to what may possibly have been the Magna Carta exhibition, but might as well have been any London museum, and con them out of another one), and I was rather upset when I realised. I was scarf bereft for a number of years, before finally taking the plunge and buying a couple of rather nice woolen scarves last year. They were scant comfort, however.

Yesterday, Mary gave me a squidgy package that, when opened, revealed a shiny, brand new, Clare college scarf. I am therefore officially the happiest James in the country.

This entry is probably of no interest to anyone other than myself. But I don’t care, because I’ve got a college scarf again. Yay!

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