He's a long-tailed weasel, apparently. Rob and Lolly picked him up in Spitalfields market (cue pulling jokes) for a bargainous sum of £25. Is that a bargain? Who knows the market rates of slightly manky stuffed weasels? Anyway he's now residing on the 3rd floor of Hanbury Street, replacing me (Emma) as desk companion. The level of conversation will only improve.

Not this one:

This one:

Chekhov on 'walking in stupid':

"It is time for writers to admit that nothing in this world makes sense. Only fools and charlatans think they know and understand everything. The stupider they are, the wider they conceive their horizons to be. And if an artist decides to declare that he understands nothing of what he sees – this in itself constitutes a considerable clarity in the realm of thought, and a great step forward."

Anton Chekhov, as quoted in Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose.

Wise words from our Russian friend.