Archie’s week was a success. The housemaster to whom Helen and I had consigned him on Monday, said with every appearance of meaning it that he had fitted in well and that he (the housemaster) hoped he (Archie) would come back in the autumn. Archie’s own account, on the way home, filled in a lot of detail and confirmed the impression of a successful week. The school has its own boa constrictor.
No rugby – he fell on some stone steps on the first day and banged a knee, which then swelled up impressively. But a couple of days mincing about the field during the warmest February in living memory would hardly have provided much of a taste of the potential horror of the experience, anyway. I think the housemaster was right that the real issue was how Archie adapted to the discipline of communal life.
So today we are going to the Farmer’s Market for some mutton and rare-breed pork (and sweetbreads, if anybody has them). Say hello, if you’re there. We will be easy to spot because of Archie’s height. Then across the Gardens to
Princes Street and
Waterstone’s which is what Archie wants to do.
The knitting progresses. Soon the v-neck decreases will be sensible.
I haven’t picked up stitches for v-neck ribbing in decades. Centuries. I had a quick look at my bookshelves and Google yesterday, without success. I don’t want to know how to do it so much; I want a rule-of-thumb for the rate at which to pick them up. I’m winging it with this thing, with a lot of help from
Vicki Square and “Knit Great Basics”. I
dare say I can extract a ball-park figure from her of how many stitches I want.
I’ve just ordered her first kimono book. I’m not sure I knew about that.