I'm sorry to have let you down. 

Helen is here and I am dictating to you this morning. I haven't heard from my sister since the election. I miss it as a source of irritation. Now I have nothing to think about except the dreadful state of British politics. I think I can remember a previous occasion longer ago than most can remember when a new Labour government was hoping to put everything right on the profits of 'growth', only there was no growth and things went on as bad as before if not worse. I fear that's where we are again. 

Oh dear, dictation is not a substitute for actual writing but I really can't see very well these days. 

Wordle: 

Even that has deserted me. The Loch Lyne Mileses are on strike, something to do with the newsaper guild. My father, who was a newspaper man, didn't entirely approve of it and never joined. Just as my husband, who was an academic, never joined the association of university lecturers so I have no scruple whatsoever in crossing this virtual picket line. But the three Loch Fyne Mileses have dropped out,  Alexander giving up a winning streak of 104. My current streak is 17. Four today and Rachel Miles was the same but we haven't heard from Mark or the Americans.