Knitlass, at least, will have spotted yesterday that I wasn't paying all that much attention to the rugby. Wales scored what seemed to be – what proved to be – the winning try just as our friend, arriving for tea, rang the doorbell. We kept the television on, with the sound down, but I entirely missed Scotland's try in the last moments, its conversion, and the question of whether there was time to restart for one more play. There seemed to be time, but the referee said no and blew the whistle. Scotland lost by three points.
Not only that, but yesterday's newspapers said that one or perhaps even two Scottish tries were disallowed although the evidence seems to be that they were good.
We wuz robbed, in fact.
These things happen. Rob Wainwright wrote in the Financial Times once about a famous Calcutta Cup match in which a penalty was awarded to England in front of the Scottish goal right at the end for “hand on the ball in the ruck” (or something like that – I don't really understand rugby) and England kicked it and won the match and poor Gavin Hastings was reduced to tears and couldn't face the press afterwards. There was a hand on the ball, Wainwright said, and he should know as he had been in that ruck. It was an English hand. Rob Andrews' hand.
I reported this to Alexander who took it calmly. These things happen.
Kate Davies published an on-line interview with Gudrun Johnston recently. She used so pale a typeface that I read it with difficulty but was interested in Johnston's book “Shetland Trader Book 2”. I wasn't entirely clear as to whether it is a book of knitting patterns, or of bespoke clothes that you could order. It turns out to be the former and I want it, if only for the photography. They stayed at Burrastow when they were there for the shoot – that's where we stayed!
But pop-up ads and mis-clicks have defeated me this morning.
Elizabeth, no, I didn't know that Arne and Carlos had signed up with Regia for a line of designer sock yarn – that's exciting news.
It set me to thinking about how little knitting I seem to get done these days. With Archie's sweater, it's a bit like Penelope and her loom. I suspect myself of dragging my feet because I don't want to finish. But overall, I begin to think I am slowing down. Maybe it's just winter. My husband has a podiatry appt today which should advance those poor Pakokku socks a bit.
The pho was good, although the final dish was something of a disappointment. The broth is delicious, although not as complex as I would have expected. There's lots of it – I think I should have reduced it while all the stuff was still in it, before straining. And there's also lots of splendid poached chicken left. The recipe is in the current issue of Delicious magazine – does anybody else want to try? It's not difficult. It's not even time-consuming except in the sense of taking three days