The plumber came, I am told, and found a cracked pipe. We are now waiting for him to replace it, and the girls upstairs have, I hope, all grasped at last that they musn't have a bath until he does. I have that sort of slightly light-headed feeling one gets when an ugly problem resolves itself. Mrs Carson and I are now on first-name terms.
The Fair Isle jacket progresses. I think even in the picture you can see how the later section is more legible than the earlier, but I still think I was right to go ahead, not rip back to the beginning again. Apart from legibility, I like the overall look of the colors, when I see it lying there in a heap. Sort of peaceful. I don't think even now I'm as far along as I got with the Stillwater pattern before ripping it out. I'm vastly happier.
I've added -- it should appear below, because it really belongs with yesterday's message -- a picture of the ribwarmer being blocked. It's still damp.
I got a renewal invitation from Knitter's the other day, correctly addressed in every respect except that it was sent to "Linda Peterson". I think I'll wait at least until the current issue shows up (with my friend's hat pattern in it), to see how that's addressed. Surely it can't be long now. Is the "customer number" on the recent message mine or Linda's?
Helen in Thessaloniki points out, a propos the news that her brother James has walked through a minefield, that this is the same man who gave serious consideration to spending the Christmas holiday in Phuket. They had been to Thailand last year and had a nice time. I feel a superstitious twinge about the tendency of things to happen in threes. Does he have an appointment in Samarra?