Travelling up to the Midlands on Sunday afternoon we realised we hadn't bought a Sunday paper. I think we were suffering from 243ishitis in which the sufferer has no idea what day of the week it is from Christmas Eve until the end of the first week of the year.
The petrol station at Cribbs Causeway mid-afternoon offered us no Observer or Independent on Sunday (first two choices) so we bought a Sunday Telegraph. Now the Telegraph has usually annoyed me on the odd occasions I have read it since discovering in about 1988 that reading the Daily Mail was the main cause of my need for anger management therapy. But Seven. Wow.
Seven is the weekly arts magazine insert with reviews of cinema, theatre, music and a few related articles plus the TV listings. It's quite breathtakingly brilliant and useful.