I’m back in the kitchen. I would even welcome a bit of global warming. The radio says that the weather won’t ease until next week. 

The first half of Harry and Meghan’s Netflix series was released this morning, as I’m sure you know. I”ve watched it all while knitting, and agree with the one or two commentators brave enough to say that it’s boring.

Mrs Sakoolas has been given a suspended prison sentence by Zoom and also lost her (British) driving license. She’s the one who killed a youth on his motorbike by  driving on the wrong side of the road, and then skipped home to the US and claimed diplomatic immunity. The dead boy’s humble family have persued her remorselessly and are pleased with today’s result.

Wordle: I scraped home with six. Sometimes in the late stages of a poor show, I enter anything that  can be pronounced (and fulfills the other requirements), trusting that it will either be rejected or be right. And sometimes, as today, that doesn’t work. Wordle accepts it, it’s wrong, I’ve lost a guess and still don’t know what the word means. That happened today. I’ll try to remember the word and tell you tomorrow. I’ve tried to look it up, with no success. A well-regarded restaurant on the shores of Loch Fyne? Impossible. The same thing happened with my failure two or three days ago, but that one is irretrievably forgotten.

Big Rachel got a six like me today. Ketki and Alexander needed five. Thomas and Mark and Theo were the champs with threes. Theo also got three yesterday — I think I wrongly claimed to have been the only one.