We’re going to Strathardle today for a two-nighter – should blow some cobwebs away. I think we’re all feeling these days that if All Else Fails, we could go there and live off the land. My vegetable-growing wouldn’t be equal to the task, I’m afraid, but it’s a pleasant dream.
What happened yesterday was that the men in suits were just as quick as Mrs Miles of Drummond Place to grasp that we were about to have a run on the Bank of Scotland. The solution is on the whole a happy one, and the sentence I particularly liked in the news story I’ve just read is: “The future of HBOS chief Andy Hornby is unclear”. He is the clever young man who drove Halifax Bank of Scotland into the ditch. The Halifax Building Society was 150 years old, and is much lamented in the northern city where it was born. The Bank of Scotland was founded in 1695.
We are shareholders – bank shares were highly recommended for widows and orphans up until a few months ago – and will at least escape with a little. We moved savings out of HBOS yesterday: so did Alexander and Ketki.
Meanwhile, what? It’s not over yet.
But news from the knitting front is a bit more cheerful, too. I reined myself in and faced the fact that the barrister’s wig was not to be knit in half an hour. I did a swatch, to practice those rolls (“Tuck Stitch Panels”), and then started again on dp’s. I think it’s going to work.
I’ll have to take it along, although normally Edinburgh and Perthshire knitting projects are strictly separated.
I bought some Noro sock yarn on Tuesday. I’ve heard doubtful reports of it, but I have to try once.
The new neighbours were quiet last night, but trouble looms on that front as surely as it does on the financial markets.