Despite the madness across the ocean, and more madness down south in London, Benedict Ambrose and I had a tranquil walk through our humble but leafy neighbourhood.

Today I planted beets. I also wrote two articles and recommended to Twitter Sohrab Ahmari’s essay about his Manhattan building being under siege. Sadly, I spelled “Ahmari” wrong. Mea culpa.

I told B.A. that I’m going to save all my earnings to pay off the mortgage and invest for our retirement. I’ll buy nice clothes only for trips to Poland and for Polish Pretend Son’s visits, so as to give the impression that I dress well all the time. B.A. said that this clothing plan was not normal. We then passed the locked, darkened beauty nail shop the hairdresser’s, and I declared that I would go to them as soon as the lockdown is over, so as to give them money and help keep them open.

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