On Sundays, I like to share three things I have enjoyed in the past week. They could be anything; just stuff that has, as Marie Kondo might say, sparked joy. They also don’t have to be new or recent, so long as I’ve enjoyed them this week.

Thing 1: The Lib Sibs of The Necessary Conversation

I have a love-hate relationship with The Necessary Conversation. It’s a good podcast, and it’s interesting to see the current state of American politics. It’s always heartening to see the mother, Mary-Lou, take a few steps towards leaving the MAGA cult, but then pretty crushing when she returns to conspiracy theories and racism.

This Wednesday’s episode just featured Chad and Haley. They’ve taken to calling these episodes the Lib Sibs.

These episodes can form a bit of an echo chamber, but there’s no denying that they’re an easier listen. I also have a lot of time for Haley and I don’t like how her parents roll their eyes and dismiss what she says, so it’s nice to see her able to voice her opinions and be met with respect.

Thing 2: The King Meets a Cricket Team That Doesn’t Exist

This week, King Charles met the Afghan women’s cricket team, a team that technically isn’t allowed to exist under the Taliban’s ban on women’s sport. Most of the players are now refugees, scattered across the world but still determined to play the game they love. Seeing them welcomed at Clarence House, bright pink shirts and huge smiles, felt like a small but powerful moment of recognition.

They’re here in the UK to play exhibition matches during the Women’s T20 World Cup, not just for themselves but for every Afghan woman who’s been told she can’t study, can’t play, can’t even go outside freely. Their message was simple and fierce: we’re still here, and we’re still playing.

A proper burst of courage and joy in the face of everything stacked against them.

Thing 3: Glasgow’s Finest Cultural Export Hits Boston

Scotland fans have been running around Boston sticking traffic cones on statues, and honestly, it’s beautiful. The locals are baffled, delighted, and slightly concerned about where we’re finding all these cones, which is exactly the correct reaction.

As a Scot, there’s something genuinely heart‑warming about seeing the Duke of Wellington’s legacy – that iconic, stupid, perfect cone – make the leap across the Atlantic. It’s pure Glasgow mischief: harmless, cheeky, instantly recognisable, and somehow now an international symbol of “Scotland was here”.

The Tartan Army turning Boston’s historic monuments into honorary Glaswegians might be the most wholesome cultural exchange of the World Cup.