Guess what? Grey and wet. Perhaps slightly less cold. We have been concerned with sourdough all day. It’s now waiting in the refrigerator overnight. I either supervised or actually performed all the operations myself — if this one comes out flat, I’ll know where to start looking for changes.

  No knitting at all.

  We’re having a little lunch party tomorrow— C. and Helen and David. Kedgeree and middle-Eastern sides. Perhaps with a bit of freshly-baked bread.

  Matthew Parris’ column in this morning’s Times is first-rate, I thought, on the situation in Gaza. I won’t attempt to paraphrase.

  I watched a mildly interesting bit of Youtube yesterday about a Frenchwoman who communicates with animals mentally. (Why on earth did I do that? It’s no wonder I get so little knitting done.) She said animals were just like us in respect to various emotions.

  Where they are not like us is in respect to modesty. I have always thought it rather clever of the Old Testament authors to spot and exploit that point right at the beginning.

  Wordle: I had an almost instantaneous three today, joined there by Rachel and Mark. Alexander and Ketki scored four; Thomas needed five. Fours for father and son — Roger and Theo — in DC.

My policy these days is to struggle with what my two starters provide until I find a serious possible answer. Instead of settling for a Jean-word.