Friday, July 14, 2006

I am going to Strathardle today. I’m pretty sure we won’t be able to stand more than a week of it, so I should re-appear towards the end of next week.

Rachel is driving up today with her two youngest children. I’ll go on ahead to meet her and get the beds made. Helen and her three boys will arrive in Edinburgh tonight, and drive on up with my husband tomorrow. She has been delayed a day by a previously-arranged hire car which couldn’t be brought forward.

This arrangement sounds simple, but now that we are eyeball-to-eyeball with it, involves multiple decisions, list-making, and note-writing.

Anyway, here’s the Paisley Long Shawl. I’m halfway through the hexagon panel, and pleased with it. That's the last major pattern panel.


Charlotte, thank you. I’m sure you’re right that my knowledge of the American court scene is based soundly on fiction, and am very glad to hear that prisoners in court appear neatly dressed in civilian clothes. The British, however – at least I think this is the case – distinguish unconvicted prisoners on remand from convicted criminals, and people in the former category wear ordinary clothes all the time. The “NatWest Three” are now in Houston and have been issued with green boiler suits appropriate, we are told, to accused foreigners. They will learn today whether they get bail, which at the best will confine them to Texas. The case will apparently take two years to prepare. They are ruined men even if eventually acquitted.

Helen, thank you for the pointer to the Yarn Harlot. I never read her comments because there are always so tremendously many of them. I would have missed that, and feel awed and honoured to have been included. The assignment was to invite any three knitters, dead or alive, to dinner. I think I’d have an all-male line-up: Kaffe and Franklin and Ted.

Lorna, I will give the beans a good soaking before I leave. I’ve got potatoes growing on the doorstep, too – microplants -- and will do the same for them. They’re looking good. The radio said this morning that there was a touch of frost in the northern glens last night and the night before. My husband says that won’t be us, just further north. We shall see. My vegetables are in something of a frost pocket, down there by the burn. This is supposed to be the one month in the twelve when Frost Doesn’t Happen. Poof. The current forecast is sunshine all the way.

No comments:

Post a Comment