Monday
It is the last days of summer and before we return fully to the horrors of Donald Trump’s election run and the cost of living crisis, let’s enjoy some news from Australia, where problems come in more visceral form. Shortly after it emerged on Monday that a woman examined by doctors in Canberra had been hosting a live worm in her brain for six months, footage materialised from Queensland of a 16ft carpet snake – or, as the newspapers put it, a “massive python” – caught on camera by a family as it sauntered off the roof of a suburban house and into a neighbouring tree.
To non-Australians, the most remarkable aspect of the carpet python story was the phlegmatic response of the onlookers. Characterised in headlines as “horrified”, witnesses were, as it turns out and judging by the audio, not remotely shocked at all: as the snake swaggered through the branches like a host welcoming guests at a cocktail party, a woman could be heard calmly making observations about its tail, a man yelled “your pizza’s getting cold!” and, at last – a recognisable response – a small child quietly sobbed. “Be brave!” chipped in the man, cheerfully.
“They’re not normal, your people,” I tell an Australian friend, who instantly and with relish fills me in about the time she saw a snake eat a cat whole (“I can never unsee it”), and a friend of hers, also from Queensland, who woke one morning to find a python wrapped around the stem of her bedside lamp. (Her friend grabbed the kid and the dog and fled the house but did not, as I would have done, die instantly of a massive heart attack.)
Countries have their national vanities. Bring up bad weather, delayed transportation or a three-day queue to pay one’s respects to a queen and you will see the true mettle of the English. Giant pythons on the roof, not so much.
Tuesday
It’s day two of Angeles Bejar’s hunger strike in support of her son, the Spanish Football Federation chief and enthusiastic grabber of women, Luis Rubiales, who was suspended by Fifa on Saturday after clamping the head of the star forward Jenni Hermoso and kissing her on the lips, in celebration of Spain’s World Cup final win against England.
Bejar’s defence of her son is so grand, so operatic – she staged her protest by locking herself in a church in Motril, her home town in southern Spain, before being conveyed to hospital on Wednesday and calling the strike off – as to trigger a suspicion that rather than supporting Rubiales, she is actually playing him like a violin. While Rubiales vowed to “fight to the end” and described the kiss as “mutual”, a claim vigorously denied by Hermoso who was backed up by anyone with eyes who had reviewed the footage, Bejar upstaged Rubiales with behaviour so eccentrically mortifying, it seemed possible her sole purpose was to embarrass her son into retreat.
Wednesday
More kissing this week via that staple summer filler of British tabloids, the papped celebrities standing knee-deep in the ocean trying to have a quiet romantic moment on a public beach. I’ve given this more thought than it deserves, obviously, but in the history of couples and oceans, is the extended sea-kiss a move that non-celebrities have ever been inclined to attempt or successfully pulled off? Margot Robbie (or, in the Sun print headline accompanying the photo, Margot Snoggie) stands with her boyfriend, the producer Tom Ackerley, in the water in Greece, and all I can think is how hard it is to balance in the sea at the best of times, plus, ugh, mate, get off, I’m trying to have a swim here. Earlier this summer, the pair were spotted in similar form on a beach in Costa Rica, or, as the Sun had it, Kissta Rica. We don’t do snakes but, let’s give ourselves this, we do do a lovely tabloid pun.
Thursday
Mitch McConnell, the minority leader of the US Senate, freezes for the second time in three months, this time before reporters in Kentucky. In July, McConnell appeared in front of reporters on Capitol Hill and froze for 19 seconds in what was widely speculated to be some form of stroke, before aides ushered him away. This week, the Republican was silent for more than 30 seconds at a press event, prompting a rush among Democrats to shame the opposition by being extravagantly, performatively sympathetic. (You may recall the sound of Republican jeering that accompanied the Democrat John Fetterman’s stroke last year, as Democrats this week certainly did). Putting on his best headteacher’s voice, Joe Biden told off reporters who had asked the president, somewhat smirkingly, about McConnell’s latest episode, pointing out that the 81-year-old senator’s condition was “not a joke” and promising to call his “good friend” – well played, sir! – later that afternoon.
Friday
It’s official: New York, specifically Manhattan, is the most expensive city in the US, beating out even habitual frontrunner San Francisco. The finding, reported by the Council for Community and Economic Research’s cost of living index, comes as zero surprise to anyone who actually lives here, where housing costs run at 4.8 times the national average and if you don’t clear half a day to trek to an affordable supermarket, you can find yourself paying $7 (£5.50) for a litre of milk.
To survive requires deep levels of psychological denial and never fully doing the maths on the monthly grocery bill. Still, things occasionally break through. At the checkout in our local supermarket this week, four items, two of them palm-size packets of mints, came to a staggering $36, which even I can’t ignore. Glancing at the empty basket, I asked the store clerk suspiciously how much the packet of almonds cost, and after looking it up even she yelped – $17! Or practically a dollar an almond. I put back them back and reminded myself to move.
