Dearest Gentle Reader, this day brings dispatches from the Himalayan heights, the operating theatres of tomorrow, and the Cotswolds - where a certain Duke and Duchess have rather quietly made themselves at home. There is also a blood-red moon expected before dawn on Friday, which This Author considers either a portent or a coincidence, and declines to say which.

Dearest Gentle Reader, this Sunday delivers its sorrows with unusual weight - seven lives lost on a northern road in the small hours, and a nation that cannot quite find the right words. There are matters of mayors, energy bills, and Persian hackers besides, but it is the A66 near Middlesbrough that commands This Author's attention first, and demands that wit take a brief, respectful step aside.