My dears – and especially Gail – Franklin wrote to me personally to tell me about that podcast.
I have been having flu since Thursday – the New Year wouldn’t be complete without it. My husband and I have had our protective injections, and I guess it was fairly mild as a result. I am now better, but not well. Fortunately the house party in Strathardle broke up that day, and Greek Helen was here to cook and run errands. I often fret about how little I get done in a day, but the difference between that and being able to do nothing turns out to be profound.
When my turn comes for colon cancer, our children will be fully employed looking after their father.
But at least this morning I have replied to Franklin in terms of extravagant affection; listened to the podcast; and downloaded it for transfer to my MP3 player, for use when I resume my morning walks in Drummond Place Gardens. I don’t remember warning Franklin against sheep-keeping, but I can say, as a Perthshire vegetable gardener, that sheep are more destructive than rabbits and deer combined, and as insolent as cabbage white caterpillars. So I might have done.
We continue to struggle back towards the surface.
The Greeks left for Athens yesterday.
I have finished Cathy’s socks except for Kitchener’ing the second of them. I have watched the beginning of Meg’s Round-the-Bend DVD and am ready to resume work on that.