As you may have heard, Liz Truss resigned as Prime Minister of England after just 44 days in office. Things had become so precarious for her that the Daily Star tabloid set up a live feed featuring a head of iceberg lettuce next to a portrait of Truss, asking, “Which wet lettuce will last longer?”

When she resigned, the lettuce celebrated its victory with disco lights. “After an unbeleafable campaign I am thrilled to have been crowned victorious in these chard times,” it said on a voice-over (channeling our punster friend Carl). “However we must romaine cautious. This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

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A thousand apologies to AMY POEHLER, whom I completely forgot to mention in my post yesterday despite her prominence in the puzzle at 3 down — with her full name no less, clued uninspiringly as “Comedian with the 2014 humor book ‘Yes Please.’”

Who doesn’t love Amy? Here are some quotes: On shopping, “We need a little less Forever 21 and a little more Suddenly 42.” On relationships, “What I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring really loudly at me.”

Sorry for the omission Amy. I must also confess I thought of Amy Schumer first, once I had AMY. (Same number of letters with the same ER ending.)

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The New Yorker has wonderful Xword puzzles on weekdays by a great group of constructors. One a week appears in print and they are all available online. They go in opposite day order from the NYT. In the Times, Monday is easy and it builds up to bonecrushingly difficult Saturdays. (Many observers feel the Saturdays of today are a notch easier than those of yesteryear. Cynics opine that it’s an attempt to increase the number of paying subscribers.) The New Yorker goes from highly challenging on Monday, down to beginner-friendly on Thursday. And Friday is a theme (or trick) puzzle.

I mention this because I just finished a terrific Monday New Yorker puzzle by Natan Last. It was a real bear. Even the clue for OREO — one of the most common puzzle answers — was tricky. It was “Golden_______.” It turns out there’s a Golden Oreo — it’s vanilla instead of chocolate.

My favorite clue/answer was: “One being held from behind.” (11 letters) I had no idea, but the crossing answers led me to LITTLE SPOON. Huh? Was this some sort of silverware rule I wasn’t aware of? — you hold the little spoon differently from normal-sized spoons? But how do you hold a spoon “from behind?” Well, get this: It comes from “spooning,” like by a couple. As you may know, spooning is “a form of cuddling where two people lay on their sides with one person’s back against the other’s chest” (or, in my case, stomach). So, back to the puzzle answer — when spooning, the person in front (i.e., the one being “held from behind”), is called the “little spoon.”

Well, once those spooners were in place, the whole grid exploded with sexuality — or not. There was a mixed message sort of deal going on. 28A was HEAT (“2013 NBA champions), but 29A was NEIN (Hamburger’s refusal). 38A was SEX APPEAL (“Pulchritude”), 3D was THE BIG EASY (“Crescent City, by another name”), 35A was LAY EYES ON (“Spot”), 41A was TOPE (“Hit the bottle”), 30A was RIESLINGS (“High acidity white wines”), and 47A was PREGNANTLY (“In a meaningful way”)(Yikes!). So it seemed like we were getting somewhere, no? But then 27A was BETTER NOT (“I think we should avoid that . . .”), 24A was GIRL POWER (“slogan by the punk band Bikini Kill”), and, finally, 46A was I TRIED (“[Shrug]”).

Whew, looked good there for a minute.

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Today’s NYT puzzle was very much enjoyed by the Rex gang and Rex himself. (BTW, if you’re not already clued in, Rex is a reference to the “Rex Parker does the NYT puzzle blog” with the many comments it inspires.)

The clue “It’s shortest at the Equator” turned out to be DAWN. And here’s a nice comment: “I learned the meaning of DAWN. I thought it was the same as ‘sunrise.’ But ‘sunrise’ is a moment and DAWN must be a period of time if it is shortest at the equator. DAWN begins when light first appears on the horizon and ends at sunrise.”

There were a bunch of fresh and lively answers today. HANG ON A SECOND and WAIT RIGHT HERE were stacked almost right on top of each other. For the clue “The other one!,” the answer was NO NOT THAT! For “Buzzes while buzzed,” the answer was DRUNK DIALS.

Did you know there is a color called BOTTLE GREEN? There is. (“Dark hue named after a type of glassware.”) It’s the green of green bottles (duh) (think 7-Up or beer), and it’s the green of those highway signs and street name signs you see when driving. I know what you’re thinking — how does it differ from the green that is the background color on the flag of Bangladesh? Well, it doesn’t — it’s the same f**king green! (It’s also known as Bangladesh green.)

“Uncapped?” yielded BAREHEADED, something I couldn’t be in High School. At the Yeshivah of Flatbush in Brooklyn we had to wear yarmulkes to school. If Rabbi Doctor Lieberman found you without one he’d yell at you that you were nude, as far as he was concerned. Only the boys had to wear them. Still, I doubt he’d be yelling that today.

Did someone say 7-Up? My great Uncle Izzy was a chemist in the early 1900’s but his true passion was inventing. He came up with a formula for a soft drink and poured all of his savings into producing it. He called it 4-Up, and it was a complete bust — he was ruined. But he wasn’t discouraged. He went back to the proverbial drawing board, tinkered with the formula, mortgaged his home, and produced a new beverage which he called 5-Up this time. It failed and he was wiped out again. Undaunted, he revised the formula one more time, borrowed money from everyone he knew, and produced a new beverage which he called 6-Up. This time when it failed it broke his spirit. He died several years later, depressed and destitute, never realizing how close he had come.

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My brother-in-law Mitch passed away this week, and it’s a big loss for my family. He was just shy of 92. He was a very devoted husband of my wonderful sister Bonnie, who passed away over a year ago just shy of 80. Mitch was a physicist with IBM until he retired. He stayed extremely busy in retirement learning languages, writing, and taking and teaching courses at Harvard’s Extension School. On one visit years ago he told me he was putting together a course with a musician friend on the relationship between music and physics. I remembered that when we next visited on Thanksgiving, and I asked him how the course went. He said they had twelve students and he was pleased with how it went. Then he added, “But I must tell you, Avi, I was astounded at the level of ignorance that’s out there.” “How so?,” I asked. “Well, there was a woman there who actually did not know what a logarithm is. Can you imagine?” I was sitting there, stuffing turkey into my face, and had absolutely no idea what a logarithm is. So I said, “I don’t know, Mitch. Isn’t it possible not to know that and still not be a total idiot?” And he said, “Oh, please. It’s like never having heard of Shakespeare.” Well, I’ve heard of Shakespeare. I went one for two.

That became the standard of intelligence in our home. I’d meet one of Caity’s boyfriends, Linda would ask me how he seemed, and I’d say “Let me put it this way – I don’t think he knows what a logarithm is.”

Rest in peace, dear Mitch.