Two thirds in, if lucky, and we hunker down and understand there'll be few more fresh starts, that dramatic changes for the better are unlikely, and our final form, near final, is closer than the last chance of escape we once had.

Yet the joy is real, the feeling that we got away with something, learned some of the secrets, all quite simple, and did more or less what was planned, which was nothing, while avoiding the worst of the fates.