So today I'm going to do it Blogger's way -- compose directly here in Blogger, and then copy the result back into Word for my archives. The main drawback will be the lack of any sense of how much I've written. Word-counting is not on offer.
I've now done 16 scallops (out of 21) on the third side of the Mourning Shawl edging.
And we're all set for K*rkmichael. The weather is vernal, if sometimes chilly and windy. We probably won't be back there until the end of the month, after Easter (which is to be spent on the shores of Loch Fyne, happiest of prospects). Should I take the seed potatoes? They are happily chitting on the dining room windowsill. I think I'll compromise and take the most advanced of them. Likewise I've got a box of nematodes in the refrigerator -- the Green answer to slugs -- due to expire on the 26th, the Tuesday in Easter week. They'll have to come, and be applied at the last possible moment. I'd better take the herb trough from the doorstep -- it needs to be untangled and re-planted.
Will the sorrel be ready for soup-making? The nettles? I put the forcing-pot over some rhubarb before we left in February. What will I find there? It's all rather exciting, although I know that my first sight of the battlefield will fill my heart with gloom.
Our niece and her daughter Little C. are coming up to stay at some point next week. If we can get it right, we'll overlap by a day or so -- meaning they won't have to open the house, and I won't have to close it. A great luxury, both ways.
I went up to John Lewis yesterday (despite the non-arrival of the desired prescription at Boots) and looked at yarn for awhile, to no effect. Rowan yarns don't seem to be labelled with the colour name, so I didn't know whether I was looking at "Kiss" or not. There were several good reds, but I am not quite sure I know what "electric red" means, although my husband thinks he does. I have told him about Thomas-the-Elder's request and maybe the only way forward now is to let him take me yarn-shopping. He tends to get the bit between his teeth when it comes to a purchase -- it could be anything -- and pursue the matter remorselessly to its conclusion. "That will have to do" and "Let's just forget about it" are not in his vocabulary.
This is slightly dangerous, stash-wise. If I went and bought yarn for everything on the HALFPINT list -- the swing jacket I've been prattling about, the Bavarian travelling-stitch one -- the stash situation would be much worse than it is. I couldn't have anticipated the need for the Mourning Shawl -- the diagnosis was in early November, just the other day in knitting terms. Or falling for that Japanese shirt.
In Strathardle the pink Araucania sweater will be waiting for me, sleeves remaining to be done and my enthusiasm re-kindled.
Grandson Joe has contributed an article on "South Sudan's Road to Independence" to the Nottingham Economic Review, an on-line student publication. He was worried about it when he was here last weekend -- would it be published? Was it rubbish? But it's up. Even if you're not interested in African politics -- they could be counting hits.
Blogger: I posted this a moment ago, and then remembered that I wanted to tell you about Joe's article, and called it back. The paragraph breaks have disappeared. What is one to do?