A good day. Helen came. Without Mungo, whose birthday it is, because he has a cold. I sent them off to a near-by restaurant which is lavishly praised in today’s Times. Helen had the great pleasure of telling them about the article. The food was indeed delicious, Helen says, but no one was there.

   I haven’t anything much else to report. I haven’t knit. What am I to do? Perhaps I should look around through my project bags for something simpler and more suitable.

    Politics continues to obsess me. I am looking forward to Trump’s speech tonight. I have been listening to JDVance’s autobiography (see Tuesday) and wanting to find out more about my mother’s family, the Carrs. I think maybe my sister investigated them once.  Critics who comment on Vance pass over his Scotch-Irish heritage lightly, if they mention it at all, but he makes much of it.

   Wordle: yesterday’s word was QUITE. I would have done better — three instead of four — if I had remembered my own rule: when you’ve got a free-wheeling U, try a Q in front of it.

   I struggled today. Five, where I was joined by Alexander and Ketki. Six for Rachel. Four for Thomas and Mark. In DC, three for Theo (brilliant!), nothing from Roger yet.