Dearest Gentle Reader, this Saturday finds the Kingdom in a state of most exquisite disorder - a prime minister bids farewell with suspicious self-congratulation, a World Cup match proposes to begin at an hour only owls and publicans consider civilised, and the Tartan Army continues its peculiar mission to crown every statue in the civilised world with a traffic cone. This Author has observations on all of it, and she does not intend to keep them to herself.

Dearest Gentle Reader, the Southern Kingdom broils at thirty-seven degrees and the corridors of power run equally hot - a Chancellor faces demotion, a defence plan presses on without its Prime Minister, and a national inquiry at last names the towns where truth has too long been buried. This Author has much to report, and not all of it may be borne lightly.

Dearest Gentle Reader, twenty-nine thousand lightning strikes, one prime minister departing, and a ticket reseller fined for crimes against the checkout page - this Tuesday has arrived with the subtlety of a thunderclap. This Author has opinions on all of it, including a certain gallery withdrawal that has set the cultural salons buzzing with rather more heat than even the red weather alert can account for.