Yesterday (and today) was the Jewish New Year. The day, as it is written, when all Spurs fans have to make the biggest decision of the year, whether to go to the match at White Hart Lane at 3 o’clock and upset their wives, families, parents, uncles, aunts and a few holier-than-thou mates who’d already put their tickets on stub-hub, or whether to absent themselves from the match so as to score a few more points ‘up there’ at this pivotal time of year when the annual ‘tally’ is run before the ultimate ‘judge’. It’s a moral dilemma. Of sorts.

We needn’t have worried. Once God had counted that all the Jews were absent from the Lane, which took him about 82 minutes, because even God can run out of fingers, He decided all was ok and Spurs could win. Eventually. So He extended the match until that happened. It took ten minutes of ‘added time’ for Spurs to score the 2 goals required for victory, then he added on more minutes, in case we wanted a 3rd goal and, at the time of writing, the match is now in its 14th hour of ‘added time’ and should finish by Tuesday.

Our star (ish) Brazilian, Richarlison, has been out of sorts since… well, forever really, but certainly since he arrived at Tottenham. He can’t score goals. Which, for an Uber driver is not much of a problem, but for a Premier league striker, obviously, a bit more so. He’s had, as he described it this week ‘mental health issues’. Well any fan could have told him that. But acceptance is the first step to redemption. And it proved true that the problems were ‘in his head’. Or in his case ‘on his head’. Because he’s been sprouting a blond head for about 3 years, and his psychologist/barber cut it off. And hey presto, like some Samson-in-reverse, he scored one and made one on Saturday.

I’m officially obsessed with electric transport. The car is phenomenal (outside of home charging notwithstanding), and the bike… OMG it’s the only way to travel. But I don’t ride in when it might rain. Like, electricity and water??? I heard that if its raining and you’re on an e-bike, if your tongue is on the handlebars and your testicles slip onto the saddle and your feet touch the ground, all at the same time: you DIE!!!! Probably because you crash into something but it’s a big concern for us fair-weather, princessy heroes.

Happy Sunday. COME ON EVERTON!!!

A xxxx