At the football spot we argued about whether the team played better after the substitution, and everybody was certain until we tried naming what had actually changed. One man remembered a shot before the player came on as happening afterwards. I had also remembered it wrongly. We found a replay on a phone and watched the few minutes again, all four of us leaning over one small screen. The result of the argument was less clear than before, which did not stop anybody talking. At work I would ask for the record before giving my conclusion. On Saturday I seem prepared to give the conclusion first and ask the record to agree with me.

Choir practice went on longer than expected because we kept entering the bass part too early. By the last attempt I could feel the effort below my ribs when I took a breath, and my throat was dry from trying to make the note louder instead of steadier. I sat for a while after we finished; the knee was stiff from standing, but the rest of me felt pleasantly warm. On the way home I hummed the part quietly and it came more easily. Akosua heard me at the door and asked whether we had learned a new song or damaged an old one. I laughed, then had to stop and drink water before answering. The voice had done its shift.

My nephew showed me a good result and waited while I read every line. I was proud of him, by His grace, but my first words were about the subject that could still improve. His face changed a little and I felt annoyed with myself; he had come to share something good, not to attend another review. I told him I had seen how hard he was working and that this result deserved congratulations. He smiled then, though not quite as freely as when he first entered. Later I called his mother in the village and praised him at length. It was easy over the telephone. I wonder why the shorter sentence had been so difficult with him standing beside me.