More good news from Athens – David has been tottering up and down the corridor, supported now by his wife, “a la Daddy in Drummond Place”.
Knitalot, my fear of general anaesthetic is specific, in that we have had two cases in the family of not-coming-round. One was my mother's mother, a fair time ago, in Dallas, in the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, in fact. The other much more recently, Rachel's father-in-law, in London. Both survived their operations for some time – weeks. But no more consciousness.
My own experience is limited to a tooth extraction in Glasgow in the late '50's. I would flee screaming from a dentist who suggested such a thing nowadays – or at least, would ask many sharp questions.
So, I'm going on my walk this morning. C. suggests the sea shore, to avoid any danger of ice. Not a bad idea. And maybe we can come back here for a restorative bowl of soup, rather than finding a cafe to huddle in. C. knows the city well, and has come up with some good post-walk cafes. I'd be sorry to omit that bit, but it might be wiser.
James gave a talk on some aspect of China at Eton yesterday. He got to take his daughter Rachel along. It must have been an interesting glimpse, for both of them, behind a door permanently closed to most of us. I don't know whether they got to stay overnight.
Today is the income-tax-filing deadline. The radio said that a remarkable number of us – a million? – haven't done it yet.
I phoned Loop. It was fun. She hadn't heard of “pocket squares” either, but found the page on Ravelry with a speed which was a great credit to the Loop computer. She made some suggestions which I haven't fully explored yet. But I still wonder if I couldn't muster the strength to get up to Lewis's (or across to McAree's – is that what they're called?) and experience some actual yarn.
Archie's sweater progressed, but not much. Never was there such an evening for repeated escapes of the fifth needle, every time I was interrupted and no matter how carefully I put it down.
And I haven't read any more of the New Yorker article about hoarding, being absorbed in the new issue and the article on salmonella.