We qualified for our Blue Badge! It was as I expected – by the time the assessor had come to get us from the waiting room and had walked with us to the near-by consulting room, she could see that my husband was in the Disabled Parking Badge category. The only thing that could possibly have gone wrong was if she had taken it into her head to wonder whether he was hamming it up. Mercifully (for her) she didn't. We sat for a while answering questions which G. and I had already answered on the 14-page application form and then she said that we will get our badge in a couple of weeks.
Better yet, almost, G. herself rang up in the morning and offered to drive us there. She is brisk and funny and a delight to be with. She is the one who drove us to the polling station on Referendum Day, not realising until too late that my husband was going to vote the wrong way. This offer transformed the day, almost, from an ordeal into a pleasant outing.
The Astley Ainslie hospital is something of an experience. We got there all right, there was a sign saying so, but we turned in the wrong direction and drove along the wall finding no way in and soon found ourselves half a mile away in horrible Christmas-shopping-Friday-afternoon traffic on the Morningside Road, with my husband (uncharacteristically) issuing unhelpful instructions. He knows Edinburgh and is usually good at it.
And then when we had retraced our steps and found the way in, the place turns out to be a labyrinth of little buildings and winding roads. The job done, we had not inconsiderable difficulty finding our way out again.
In the evening, everything over and done, I had something of a little panic attack. But I got my 2 1/3 scallops of the Unst Bridal Shawl edging done, yet again without disaster, and a few more stitches on Archie's sweater.
The shawl is looking good, now that the third corner is free, if one sort of squints at it with poor eyesight and makes allowance for blocking. I found a hole yesterday – not a Disaster Hole, all of which are at least, I think, secure, but a real one, with live stitches. Moths? Or a dropped stitch I didn't notice at the time? The Princess had two or three such holes, despite very careful storage, when I got her out for the wedding. They were easily repaired and totally inconspicuous – although, as mentioned before, it wouldn't do for the Shetland Museum. I'm not overly worried about this one. But it's sad.
My sister says that I am not to worry about size. Hellie (the 2015 bride) is tiny, although so fiercely competent that one doesn't notice it. She will be glad not to be overwhelmed by the shawl, my sister thinks.
I hope to return today to my project of a brioche/fisherman's rib scarf with Carol Sunday's wonderful yarn.
Franklin has a new blog post, an uncommon event these days. What is Dolores doing? Link in sidebar. But it's not about knitting! Or Dolores!
I've just spent some time with the new Twist Collective, and need to spend more. There's a shawl called “Pelion”! I think I have formulated a Thot about style – which is, that winter sweaters just at the moment are tighter-fitting and more bosom-y-looking than I am entirely happy with. One could always add more ease. Kate Davies' “Yoke” book started this hare for me – she models most of the patterns herself, and of course has the figure for it. Many of us don't.
But what really caught my eye in the Twist Collective was the Tokyo Shawl (again), and a asymmetric, wrap-around striped cardigan from Wool People 8. No bosoms there.