I’m all ready for the EYF, I think. E-ticket printed and packed along with Mary Lou’s pattern and the things I need for my “Colours of Edinburgh” class with Felicity Ford. No homework, mercifully – just a circular 2.5 mm needle and some squared paper. I threw in some coloured pencils.

I’ll be carrying my “Thank You Obama” bag, and wearing my “Don’t Mess With An Old Woman Who Graduated from Oberlin College” sweat shirt, but that will be largely concealed under an outdoor jacket. I wore it two years ago: there was another Oberlin woman in Hazel Tindall’s class. What were the chances of that?

Everybody else, of course, wears beautiful knitting.

So please say hello if you see me, and feel like it.

Past visits to the EYF have contributed to what might be called my Permastash – but this time, what I buy is very likely to be knitted before EYF 2020, namely a sweater for a new great-grandchild and a Calcutta Cup scarf.

I did a bit more Dathan today (but no walk). I now only lack a few stitches of 500. That will be a milestone.

Reading

I’m glad you’re enjoying “He Knew He Was Right”, Shandy, and I agree that Miss Stanbury is a terrific character. Mr. Gibson and the French sisters are good examples, too, of what I meant about Trollope’s lightness of touch and skill at slightly comic characters. Several of the themes of that book are echoed in “Lady Anna” but in the latter case, there is no light relief. It is as if “He Knew He Was Right” were entirely devoted to the Trevellyns.

I have finished “Lady Anna” and have gone on to “The Claverings”.

The New Yorker came today. I was surprised to find Brexit on the cover. The Talk of the Town leading article says that Brexiteers would have done well to contemplate Irish prosperity. The difficulty with that contemplation is that Ireland was a poor country, and EU money poured in (as into Greece). The UK is a rich country, and our money pours out.