Not much of a day, but some. It was bath day. My sister thinks I ought to stop baths, and she’s probably right, but I have great confidence in Daniela and I like being thoroughly clean, even if only once a week.  A priest then came and gave me what used to be called Extreme Unction but has now been down-graded to Sacrament of the Sick. Whichever you call it, it hasn’t done my hip any good. Helen then came in – she was on her way to Dumfries House (to teach mosaic-making). While watering the plants on the front step, Daniela discovered that one of my potatoes has come up.

 

Even with italics, that doesn’t sound as if it adds up to much of a morning, but I was prostrate by then, and did no knitting. There was also a passage about a plumber who was going to come to see if there is something wrong with our Downstairs Lavatory (which is not downstairs) because the bathroom below – in someone else’s house – has developed mould. But he couldn’t come because his van broke down.  After lunch I had my dear nap, and then knit one long pattern row, no. 47 or something like that. I hope I’ll be up to the following long plain-vanilla knit row before I give up for the night.

 

Comments: The parts of Libya around Cyrene: C. lives over on the other side of the city, not far from the University chaplaincy we attend. She nobly drives over here to fetch me, every Sunday morning. But if driving over and getting back is rendered nearly impossible by the marathon, she might as well stay there and walk to Mass, and I might as well skip a week. It’s just a shame that it had to be the week of Pentecost.

 

And, Chloe, you’re right, if I go on feeling sickish, I ought to see a dr about it. I think I’m somewhat better today.

 

Tomorrow a man from the Yale University Press is coming early to tell me about how the publication of my husband’s work is progressing. I mustn’t forget.  It will involve brushing my hair early.

Wordle: Another four, for me. It was the only one, today. Almost everybody else did better. Thomas was the comforting exception, with a five. Threes for everybody else. Still silence from Roger. He and my sister may have moved on to James and Cathy by now – nobody there does Wordle, now that their daughter Little Rachel has abandoned us.