Photocopiers a-go-go

It is a sad fact of conference life, whatever the theme, but especially this year, that it inevitably involves a lot of paper. It is currently well after the time that any sane person would have left the office and the photocopier is still manfully (or womanfully I suppose, I am trying not to be too genderist about this) chugging its way through speaker biography sheets and the full conference delegate list. We are all crossing our fingers and sacrificing chickens to the gods of office stationary in order to keep it going and trying not to think about the fact that at some point we have to go home and pack, or in Keith's case, go home, iron many shirts and then pack.

The team rolls into Cardiff one day before the main delegates to ensure that bags are dutably stuffed, signs and rooms are prepared, registration is set up and the bar well stocked, so this is the last missive written from the organised chaos of my desk (actually if you have seen my desk you would be hard pressed to discern any obvious organisation...) and whilst it is terribly satisfying to cross things off the big list on the whiteboard, it doesn't actually seem to be getting much shorter...

So, to the Valleys, to the land of song. Lock up your grandmothers, and leave a note for the milkman, its Conference Time...