Our friends have been safely delivered to Waverley Station.
Yesterday’s cultural outing was, in the end, not to Falkland Palace but to Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott’s wonderful house in the Borders, and to Melrose Abbey nearby, bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang. We had a grand time. I am very tired.
Not much knitting. I am nearly ready to fuse the wallaby pouch to the body. I think I’ll press ahead and do that, and maybe finish the body, before sinking back into the arms of my Princess.
One further note on Wednesday’s visit to the Museum of Scotland: the knitting showcase included a Fair Isle sweater, as I have mentioned. It was nearly 100 years old (1910). It is distinctly short in both body and sleeves – a sweater for a man to do some work in. It was folded so that I couldn’t see how the sleeves were attached to the shoulders, or how the pattern behaved at that interesting juncture. It had a round neck with stand-up Fair-Isle-patterned collar.