The news from Athens continues good. Pain is no longer a problem, and David has been detached from his tubes except for two drains, He ate some chicken noodle soup. Goodness! what an ordeal! It had better solve the problem permanently.
We had a delicious day yesterday, C. and I. The weather cooperated splendidly, despite a savage turn earlier in the week, and grim forecasts. It wasn't exactly warm, but it wasn't icy either, no snow, no wind. The hazard, as so often, was mud. We picked our way with care, and neither fell.
We went to East Linton, as recommended in a Walk Book she gave me for my 80th birthday, and walked upstream along the river Tyne (which sounds as if it ought to be somewhere else) as far as the ruins of Hailes Castle (Mary Queen of Scots, Cromwell). The muddy path was the first half of the journey, the return was along a surfaced lane. About four miles in all, about the limit of my strength.
Along that muddy path we found sheets of snowdrops, more than I have ever seen before in the wild – as distinct from carefully managed and fenced arrangements in wild gardens. And although the path was used by dog-walkers and one unhappy mother, bogged down in the mud with her pushchair, nobody seemed to have picked any. C. took pictures with her telephone which I hope she will send me.
Then back to East Linton for cider (for me, who wasn't driving) and bacon butties.
Panic was, for the moment, completely blown away. It's back, this morning.
C. has gone off with my passport. She it was who booked our tickets for Athens, and she says that EasyJet is enquiring about particulars. She's welcome to it – at the worst, with a certain amount of huff and puff, it could be replaced. What she can't have is the previous one, now expired of course, which contains a stamp saying “Given leave to enter the United Kingdom for an indefinite period”. They don't issue those any more, for whatever reason. I have to carry both passports to get back in.
Despite complete, delicious tiredness I finished off the decreases in Archie's first sleeve, found I needed another four inches, calculated how many rounds that would be given the row gauge previously achieved, and set the Sirka counter accordingly. It's a wonderful gadget.
I think you may well be right, Hilde, that I could have done a lot more of the sleeve on a circular needle. I'll determine the length of the one I was using, root around to see if I have anything shorter – almost certainly not; the needles are in some sort of order – and have a look at good old Meadow Yarns.
I've had some thoughts about Pocket Squares, but no action. Don't panic, don't panic, was Corporal Jones' excellent advice.