I was afraid the Mourning Shawl would produce even-more-then-ordinarily boring blog posts, and I was right. There are fewer pauses now to undo stitches, and I’m moving along nicely. Here’s where we are, six scallops along the third edge:

The newspaper on the front step is because things are a bit damp out there this morning. The drought of March is being pierced to the root, just as the poet says. March was unusually dry this year. The colour would appear to be the most faithful I have yet achieved. Because of the newspaper? Live and learn.

I was glad to read in yesterday's comments of the enthusiasm for EZ’s New Zealand sweater. I’ve ordered the Spin-Out (and the books about Estonian socks and mittens,to make the postage worthwhile) and await it keenly.

Meanwhile I learned from Jared yesterday – because I’m on his mailing list – of his new pattern, Brownstone. Very nice, although I’m not sure about the toggles. It occurred to me that I could knit Thomas-the-Elder an electric red sweater even if England don’t win the Rugby World Cup.

Jared’s “Shelter” yarn, which I’d love to have an excuse for trying, doesn’t seem to come in electric red. That set me looking about – it’s not going to be quite as easy as I hoped to find such yarn. But several pure wool Rowan qualities have a shade called “Kiss” which might fill the bill – I think this may be a case for actual looking, as distinct from on-line ordering.

Miscellaneous non-knit

Stash haus, I love the line you quote from Garrison Keillor in yesterday’s comment. I’m a big fan, but I didn’t know that one, and will treasure it. I like what you say about your father-in-law’s donation of his body to medical research, too.

We went once on Open Doors day to the normally private little museum at the Department of Anatomy here in Edinburgh (and learned what a scourge rickets once was). Burke’s skeleton is there, or maybe it was Hare’s – part of the death sentence, in that case, was to be denied Christian burial. Several exhibits were covered. I asked the medical man who was supervising the proceedings whether that was because they were too ghastly for lay eyes. No, he said: they were body parts from people who had donated themselves for medical research, not for public exhibition. As with your story, Stash haus, the respect for human remains was both touching and pleasing.

My morning practice is to compose in Microsoft Word, save the result, and then copy and paste it into Blogger. The last few days, Blogger has taken to removing hyperlinks and stripping my efforts of hard returns so that it all comes out as one big Joycean paragraph. I couldn’t be the only blog writer affected – but maybe everybody else composes directly on-line. It’s a nuisance.

It has happened again today. The tedious solution is to click the "Edit HTML" button and restore everything. Tomorrow I'll try composing in HTML while I'm still in Microsoft Word, but I don't like being pushed around.