The asparagus was exquisite. For once I steamed it just right – the slightest hint of remaining crunch. And the hollandaise worked fine. It’s really too rich for my elderly stomach, but I’m glad to know I can still do it. My father used to make hollandaise sauce on Sunday mornings and I think it often went wrong.

A good day, today. I didn’t even try to go out. Helen (and I) (and Daniela, and her husband) have all decided that it’s all right if Daniela comes here. At weekends, when her husband can bring her and look after the toddler. So today she did, and took the house by the scruff of its neck, and it’s wonderful to sit here amidst such cleanliness and order. I spoke to my sister by Skype again today – they’re having supper tonight with another couple from their retirement community: I think that may be even naughtier than having Daniela here. We stayed well apart.

The Virus Shawl proceeds apace, as you’ll see if I remember to update the sidebar. The figures over there don’t leave room for finishing – but weaving in ends holds no fears for a two-time Dathan hap knitter.

I still haven’t succeeded in reaching Sunday Knits – but I found a message in the Ravelry group, from a month ago, from Carol herself, saying that she was having exactly this problem with her server. So I’ve stopped worrying, for a moment.

I have begun to sink into the Slough of Despond over this virus thing – what if there’s never a vaccine? (There isn’t one for the common cold, another coronavirus.) What if having COVID, or being vaccinated, doesn’t confer a very long-lasting immunity? There’s lots they don’t know, as my husband’s sister used often to say of me.