Something about white people cancelling The Smiths because of racism without understanding the effectiveness of teaching people to sit with the discomfort of having their offensiveness pointed out to them is really ticking me off on this fine Saturday morning.

Truly baffled, upon waking, to learn how wrong I am when I say to myself: “ah, American elections must be coming up again soon. How long has he been in office now?”

It’s a privilege, I suppose, that my ankle recovery has been going so smoothly that I no longer need three physio appointments a week, consistently missing the closing time of the place around the corner selling those cardamom buns.

Making the best of a mess

Dogs, I’ve learnt, have a majestic ability to recover after trauma. Zev just fell her equivalent of five stories to the floor, and after deep howling, shaking it off multiple times, cuddles, a near-instant nap, and a wee she is prancing around the living room as though nothing happened. I want to be her when I grow up.

This week’s win

I know I’m jinxing it by even saying so, but the fact that our brand-new puppy Zev Bialy Costanza has not had a single accident in the house feels gratifying and exciting. We brought her home on Wednesday from the two darling corgis who gave birth to Lemonade almost three years ago.

Evening walk