Dearest Gentle Reader, this very Thursday has delivered a political pantomime so perfectly constructed one suspects the actors rehearsed it. Lady Reeves endorses the man expected to demote her, Lord Trump delivers a verdict so magnificently unhelpful it proves his opponent's point entirely, and somewhere in North Britain, an entire nation squints at a statistical table with the expression of a person who has been here before and knows precisely how it ends - yet cannot quite bring themselves to look away.

Dearest Gentle Reader, this Sunday has delivered a first World Cup victory in thirty-six years, a last-minute medical ceasefire, and a miniature horse who travels by taxi to the dentist - and that is merely where the morning begins. Lord Starmer prepares an announcement that will send the technology companies of this age scrambling, while Belfast answers disorder with something rather more powerful than noise. This Author has her pen, her opinions, and very strong feelings about all of it.

Dearest Gentle Reader, His Majesty the King has been distributing honours with magnificent liberality, North Britain has dissolved into tearful footballing rapture, and somewhere in Kansas City, a thief has made off with England's boots. This Author has opinions on all of it - and a particular view on one shop's attitude towards bacon that she simply cannot keep to herself.