I had a grand time at Waitrose. I have undoubtedly lost ground since I was last there – only once, I think, since all this nonsense started – but I managed to stay on my feet. I now probably have more food than I can comfortably eat – with more arriving tomorrow.

 

I am within half-a-circuit of finishing the final broad stripe on the body of the Evandoon. I ran out of yarn at just that crucial moment, and spent a peaceful few moments winding the next skein while watching Queer Joe’s new video, in which we are shown a typical Wednesday morning. Not without interest. (Is it really that light in New Jersey between 5 and 6 a.m.? I get up in full darkness, these days, at 7:15.) 

I hope to add the final narrow white stripe this evening, while watching the episode of Nigella you mention, Shandy. I agree with you about the silliness of deep-frying a chicken thigh for oneself alone. I never deep fry, in fact – not for health reasons, but because I don’t know what to do with the fat afterwards. I know I can’t pour it down the drain.

 

When I’ve done that final narrow white stripe, I will measure the Evandoon carefully to see how near I am to Kate Davies’ schematic. And if it more or less matches, I think I’ll press on to the ribbing without the agony of trying it on. It’ll fit somebody, as I’ve already said. Then come the sleeves – and despite all my fine talk, and all your very helpful comments and suggestions, I have done nothing about seeking out dp’s.

 

Miscellaneous

 

I read every morning a newsletter from an Oberlin friend, a sort of private blog, circulated to thirty or so friends and family. She’s a year older than I am, and a good deal spry-er. I think I’ve mentioned her before. She raised the question, a couple of days ago, of whether reading something on a Kindle makes it more forgettable. She has had the experience – which I have shared – of finding that she has read something of which she has no memory, and blames it on her Kindle. I am doubtful but it’s an interesting thought.