My eyes are fine.

Well, they're not, of course, but I can drive. I can, in fact, read the line below the one on the oculist's chart which the DVLA specifies as a minimum. The recent difficulty is (I was told) because the plastic lens in my right eye since the cataract operation, has gone a bit cloudy, as plastic does. This can be corrected with lasers if I want but for the moment I will leave it, at least until I see how much new spectacles help. As long as I can knit comfortably and drive safely, why worry?

I've reached round 83 of the borders of the Unst Bridal Shawl. 136 is the target.

More non-knit:

A brief, excited email from granddaughter Hellie yesterday: “EENY MEENY is my book!” with a link to Richard and Judy.

I don't think this means that Hellie is writing thrillers these days under the name of M J Arlidge. More likely s/he is a writer Hellie has found and got published and promoted -- Richard and Judy are surely a coup -- in her role as literary agent. I bought it and am reading. It is perhaps stronger meat than I really care for, but it is certainly a page-turner. More on this later.

Before I get back to “Counting Sheep” and Sharma's “Family Life”. The great thing about Kindle is the way half-read paperbacks don't pile up on the floor.

Football

I'm not really a Liverpool fan, Knitlass. Rachel's husband and children are, and Hellie's boyfriend Matt. In fact I think it is Liverpool that brought them together. On Easter Sunday they got up early and went off to Mass in Dunoon so that they could be back in time to watch the match. The rest of us went to the 11:30 in Inverary. And of course on Easter Sunday, Liverpool won. Things have gone downhill since.

As I understand yesterday's newspaper, Liverpool can still win the league if they win on Sunday and Manchester City lose. Stranger things have happened, although not many. But perhaps I don't grasp the subtleties. The man on the radio said yesterday that Liverpool would have to win by 14 points. That would require direct divine intervention.

Horticulture

The chilli plants on the kitchen windowsill have overwintered successfully and are now in action, although the big jalapeno from Waitrose that started the whole thing off, is reluctant to set fruit, as it was at the beginning of the season last year. The little plants that Alexander gave me are coming forward nicely. Eventually they will have to be re-potted and then one, at least, of last year's chillis will have to be sacrificed to make room for them.

And I am about to sow peas and salad leaves and courgettes on the doorstep outside – safe from rabbits and slugs and deer and sheep but alas I will not hear the cuckoo sing as I work.