Dearest Gentle Reader, this Saturday brings grief from the skies above Loch Lomond, a Chancellor pronouncing on runways from Bangkok of all places, a First Minister counting stars over Aberdeen, and a nurse whose definition of familial devotion runs to three-quarters of a million pounds and a campervan. Whether the nation's appetite for drama is quite equal to all of it - or whether, like the contestants of a certain castle-based entertainment, we shall simply yawn and be done with it - is a matter This Author leaves entirely to your discernment.

Dearest Gentle Reader, today's dispatches bring a single syllable of foreign policy, a £1.3 billion campaign of lies, and a farming scheme that vanished faster than one's composure at an Oasis ticket sale. This Author also has thoughts on black velvet jackets, pearl earrings, and what it means to inherit a situation - whether one is a prime minister or merely the recipient of a slightly damp umbrella.

Dearest Gentle Reader, this Tuesday brings two empty chairs in Manchester, a laundry room with ambitions of becoming a cell, and a First Minister of North Britain who has discovered the art of embracing change - though not quite yet. This Author has much to report, and very little of it is comfortable.