Yesterday, the bookies’ favourites for the Royal Baby’s name were “Alexander” and “James”. Bookies are happier, aren’t they, when favourites don’t win? At any rate, the answer is “Archie”. When our Archie was born, I think there was some discussion between his parents as to what to tell them at the Register Office – “Archie” or “Archibald”? I think “Archibald” won, and we will probably hear the answer for the Royal Baby in due course.

A nice young man in Lieth (named “Jamie”) said this morning that my abdominal organs, including the aorta, are in good order. I believed him implicitly, but later in the day began to wonder how he comports himself when he finds something less pleasant in there.

I lay awake worrying about things last night – probably, in fact, worrying about Lieth. Archie came today and we dealt with many of them. We found the street address and the postcode and the telephone number of the b&b towards which I will be bound in Lerwick, and photographed it for my telephone. We found the name and mobile number of the fellow-Adventurer who will be on the ferry with me on Tuesday night, and installed them in my telephone.

I had time, in Lieth, to knit a few stitches of the current travel-sock. It’s getting on down towards the heel flap, and I may need to take not only it but another ball of sock yarn along, I also need to remind myself of my numbers – how deep the ribbing, how many rounds after that before the heel flap, how long the foot. For both men and women, if I am indeed to start another sock while absent.

But I know where those numbers are, and will retrieve them soon. I have also laid out the first page of Sharon Miller's "Spring Shawl" pattern, so that I can choose the yarn for it at Jamieson & Smith. It looks more daunting than ever.