Back again, somewhere beyond tired. The narrative can be doled out over the next few days, sort of like the Games.

Start with knitting. I finished the current travel socks on the train south, Kitchener'd them that evening and gave them to Rachel. That is a picture of them drying after their first wearing and it conveys, perhaps, a hint of why Lizzie's First Holy Communion veil hasn't come to light.

Then I started the next pair, for my husband. London isn't terribly conducive to knitting, especially last week, when we were actually out on two separate, consecutive evenings, a thing which hasn't happened to us since the late 70's, if then. But I got a certain amount done on the train north yesterday.

In the evening I thought it unwise to attempt to finish row 16 of the Princess Shawl border. Easy as it is, one gets slightly rusty after a week away, and I was tired, tired. I resumed Fergus' Wallaby instead. An important step forward, I feel. There can always be a slight difficulty in finding one's way back into a project one has put aside. But all went well, and I made good progress on the second sleeve.

So that's that. Guys and Dolls, Thomas-the-Elder's belated 21st birthday dinner, the Knitting and Stitching Show at the Ally Pally, and the London Art Scene will all have to wait.