Here we are, tottering on. This morning’s resolution was to tidy up from yesterday, and I’ve made a reasonable start.
Greek Helen came with me for the hospital visit yesterday. Like me, she doesn’t see how we’re going to manage. But I got the heel flap done, and the heel turned, and the gusset stitches picked up, so it’s all go for the foot of the first Whiskey Barrel sock.
And in the evening, I started the first Uncia chart. I almost wrote – I’m not used to reading a lace chart back&forth, but of course I’ve done it for many an edging. The problem being, of course, that the symbols change meaning according to which direction you’re going. I think this is going to be fairly straightforward, but I hope to get a few more rows done today without benefit of television. I was trying to watch “One of Us” last night but I think I’m ready to give up on it.
I'll get the chart well started, and then switch to "Victoria".
Jealousy in animals, for Kristie: my parents had a cat named Norman Thomas who simply left home for good when they came back from the hospital with me. Poor Perdita is in heat again, longing for babies of her own. All I can say for sure is that she didn’t sleep with me, the night Juliet was here. (Those of you who know who Norman Thomas was, can trace a direct line of descent to my recent fondness for Bernie Sanders. My mother would have loved him, I think – but as an ardent feminist, she might have been torn. And, alas! I can't discuss it with her.)
Cat, yes, I’ve read KD’s wonderful blog about Whalsay. Don’t miss, anybody. She says that there is an excellent, comprehensive catalogue of the exhibition. I can’t find it, pursuing the links to the Whalsay Heritage Centre. Is anybody going to Shetland Wool Week who could get me one? I could ask KD, but don’t like to presume.
PomPom: my husband’s socks are provided by the NHS, and are indeed wonderful. He has a couple of pairs here, treasured from previous periods of incarceration. There is a bit of a nip in the air, as is appropriate for the week after Games Day. Lucy and Juliet had walked to the hospital from Drummond Place, a couple of miles. Hence the fleece vest.
As Thomas and Lucy and Juliet were leaving, I mentioned the possibility that they might carry her in the Princess Shawl on her Christening day – and they were already thinking of such a possibility. There will be a picture for the top of this blog, if it happens. The event is to be in mid-October, and I will certainly go if my poor husband is still imprisoned.