Today is Alistair's A-Level day, as I thought. He hopes to do computer science at Glasgow University, my own alma mater, or one of them. No news yet.

Alexander agrees with you, JeanfromCornwall, that my mysterious plant isn't knotweed. He says that knotweed has pretty well finished growing for '14 so it was hard for him to find anything like a young shoot to compare, but he doesn't think the leaf shape is right. He suggests an alder, an idea my husband pooh-pooh's. It must, if not knotweed, be a little tree of some sort, however. We will nurture it carefully. We like trees.

Thank you for the birthday wishes (and more on Facebook). My dears, BRANDON MABLY wished me Happy Birthday! Now I'm 81. It's just like being 51, inside, but one is weaker, weaker. I'm also two years older than my husband's sister got to be. She died of cancer in March, 2011. All through our long acquaintance, she was two years older than I was and now the position is reversed and it seems odd.

I got my replies to the wedding invitation written, both formal and informal. Mary Lou, I nearly added the words “There'll always be an England” yesterday when I mentioned the 5:30 wedding breakfast, but then I wondered if enough of you were hardened old-time New Yorker readers to understand. It's obviously a throwback to the Old Days, religiously, when bride and groom and wedding party would have had to be fasting in order to receive communion at the wedding Mass. Some prompt food at the party would have been essential.

And, thinking it through, I decided to eschew this one, although it's a shame to miss the speeches. If my husband can be persuaded to go, we have promised him he doesn't have to eat in public. His hands are swollen with rheumatism and he is clumsy. He can skulk in his room and be brought delicious tidbits. So it seemed easiest -- certainly for the organisers -- if I planned to leave at that point myself, if I am alone, and head for the station.

Knitting

I picked up the stitches from the top of the Rams & Yowes centre, the cast-off edge. It was tough going and I stopped when I got to the corner. It was sufficiently tough that I think it would be prudent to count stitches, top and bottom, before I go on, just to see how close I got. If all is well, I should finish the picking up today. The new needle, 150cm long, is a great help.

And I did a little more Unst Bridal Shawl edging. The dental appt was so promptly kept and so brief that not much was achieved there.

Today is a pick-up-pills-at-Boots day. I think I will allow myself the new Rowan book, at least I will if there is something better inside than that alarming cover picture.

There are some good links in the Knitty Blog – news of the Glasgow University Knitter-in-Residence; the huge Abertiefi Cardigan; and a race between a sheep and a cyclist.

Breaking news: Alistair got his place at Glasgow!