Broadway

I take myself walking in the sun through the parks. And bugger up the knee, again. You'd have thought that the hill towns of Italy or dragging the ginormous bag around London and Rome would have done it. But no, a mild slope by the Hudson and bringing home the shopping. NHS waiting lists in Oxford for an MRI scan about 4 months.

So, sensible as I am, we keep walking. The knee support is back and it's iced at every spare moment. But a dull stress, again, to the carefree year out.

Jack is taking me to the theatre. We wander through mid-town amongst skyscrapers built in the 30s and reflected with clouds in wobbling glass. It's a crystal clear evening and everything looks stunning. 'The Assembled Parties' is witty, slick, brilliantly acted, and has no plot. But everyone else in the audience seemed to find jokes about Jewish families on the upper west side hilarious: possibly we just lacked the cultural frame of reference.