Archie came round and we did some doorstep gardening. I made good progress with the first sleeve of the baby sweater. I am shortening the sleeve just a little – decreases every 5^th round instead of every 6^th. I think I’ve said before that sleeves were always too long when I was knitting for my own babies.

Another “Pointless” should see the first sleeve done.

And I thought a bit about Shetland lace, without getting very forrad’er. I’m not sure that I don’t find the Sheelagh shawl a bit boring.

Thank you for your help with my struggles with “Kafkaesque”. I’ll go into Settings and tell my iPad to shut up, Mary Lou. I think my favourite one in “Daniel Deronda” was the description of a coal-mining area where men went about with candies in their hats.

Jenny (comment, day before yesterday), I was delighted to see your reference to “Kirrie dumplings”. Needless to say, I have never before seen the phrase written down. Your version sounds a good deal right-er than my “curry”. I think your guess is right, too, that England is a bit too dry for them. I used to grow them in our English gardens, and was always astonished when we got to Strathardle to see how big and cabbage-like the Scottish ones were.

They grow almost like weeds. Our soil is acid – I think that’s right, although I tend to get the terms confused. The sort of soil that rhododendrons like.

Helen came bursting in yesterday evening with an armload of home-grown daffodils, fresh from Strathardle. Here is a picture she sent from there on Wednesday morning.

I’ve finished “Black Mischief” – far from his best, but time spent with Basil Seal is never entirely wasted. What next? I am attempting Patricia Highsmith’s “Edith’s Diary”, with some misgivings. It’s a Virago Modern Classic, at least. After that I think I will allow myself to return to Trollope.