A-Level results today: Archie and his cousin Rachel, James’ and Cathy’s daughter, who is going to Leeds to read Chinese (which she speaks proficiently and reads at least somewhat) and Russian (of which she knows not a syllable). We’re not worried about Rachel, and not really worried about Archie. But I’ll be glad when I have the news.
Much of yesterday was devoted to waiting for men to come and remove an electric chair – bits of it go up and down – which Social Services had supplied to my husband and which he would have none of. We have waited a long time for them to come and take it away.
The cat was devoted to it, indeed was asleep on top of it when the men finally arrived. It was there in the centre of the house, waiting to be uplifted, and affording a cat a marvelously central position for keeping an eye on things.
When I finally got to the hospital, my husband was dosing in bed and there wasn’t much conversation. Or knitting – the heel flap is still a few rounds away.
I am grateful for your concern (comments, yesterday) which is shared by our excellent children. Apart from other considerations, I don’t think I feel as sprightly as I should. I went to see a dr last week who thot there was nothing more wrong than old age and stress. Some bloods are being examined.
I did get a bit more Uncia done yesterday, and have now reached row 90. I discovered a schematic (of sorts) amongst the charts a few pages on, and now grasp that the whole thing is a very long, very narrow triangle. I think I should have perceived rather sooner that 1/12th of a circle wouldn’t be very wide.
The schematic is devoid of measurements (they’re there in the specifications at the beginning of the pattern) and reminded me of the empty map in the Hunting of the Snark:
He had brought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.
“What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?”
So the Bellman would cry, and the crew would reply
“They are merely conventional signs!”
That’s probably enough Eng Lit for today. I feel I have slightly OD’d on Maggie Farrell, and have gone on to Ivy Compton-Burnett, “Elders and Betters”, an author I have never previously attempted. I’d be glad of guidance. This one was published in 1944 but sounds as if it’s set in the early years of the century.