It’s been the best and warmest spring day yet. Archie rang up to say he had missed the targeted bus, so Daniela walked with me and Archie limped in later. We got some papers filed.

 

 Here are the sporting results: Italy beat Wales, and did it in Cardiff at that. “Home advantage” is a big thing in rugby, especially for Wales, so it was a truly major win for hopeless Italy. Ireland beat Scotland, as expected. France will play England this evening, in Paris I think. I think I’ll go to bed and listen to it on the radio.

 

And I got Wordle in five. It was a game involving thought, as I had hoped. My two starter words yielded two vowels, both brown. I set myself resolutely to think of a word using both vowels, in new places, and at least one new consonant. I think, in the end, I introduced two new consonants, both wrong, but one of the vowels was in its proper place, so now green, and the proper place for the other one could be deduced. So now the game was on, and eventually I thought of a word which fully qualified – but it was wrong. It yielded, however, four green tiles, and my next guess was right.

 

My favourite Times columnist, this morning, was writing about boring, in all its manifestations. Nothing is so boring, in his opinion, as people who post their Wordle results on social media.

 

I’ve finished the Baby Surprise. The neck is a bit untidy-looking. I won’t photograph it for you until I’ve seen what improvement – or not – a steam iron can bring about. Tomorrow’s job, therefore, must be to sew those buttons onto the Aroon jacket, and finish it too.

 

Kate Davies has posted a surprise pattern today, not part of the Argyll Coast club, called “Mooch”. It’s a yoke pattern, and I like it and it’s in Schiehallion and another yarn; and I like knitting with Schiehallion.  And here I am about to rack up not one but two FO’s….

 

 

 

A fine spring day. Wordle in three. The cider finally arrived, after a long, slow afternoon.

 

C. came, and instead of walking around the garden, we went to Broughton Street and picked up my pills from the chemist. We thought the distance was about the same, but I think it must have been a bit longer, perhaps two or three hundred steps. It left me feeling pretty flattened. Still, we got there and we got back and it was no doubt good for me.

 

My two introductory words gave me all five letters in Wordle (a first),  two greens and three browns. Since – if you stop to think about it – I knew, for each brown, three positions it didn’t belong in, it didn’t take long to slot each of them into its own slot. I hope I get something with more thinking involved, tomorrow. I wasn’t entirely happy with today’s word; we can discuss that tomorrow if there’s nothing else to talk about.

 

I’m doing fine with the Baby Surprise. I finished the basic knitting, looked up garter stitch kitchener’ing, and joined the front. It looks very tidy. Then I looked up Attached I-Cord and made a start on that, around the neck. I’m slightly short of halfway.  I’m slow and clumsy, and it was just the thing for a long afternoon of waiting.

 

All my deliveries seem to come in the afternoon, making napping impossible. What do these people do in the morning? This one was scheduled for the 3-5 p.m. slot, but when 3 p.m., so breathlessly awaited, finally arrived, the slot had been changed to 4:30-7:30. It came, in fact, at about 5, and all is forgiven.

 

Helen keeps an Instagram account going in my name, and yesterday had a little video of me knitting the Baby Surprise, with some appropriate music. You who are younger and cleverer about such things, may be able to see it.

 

A nice spring day. Wordle in three – my two starter words produced four green tiles, and this time I could think of only one letter for the missing slot – it was in the central position – and it turned out to be right. And I thought of it quickly, so that was Wordle done for the day.

 

Then Helen came, and we staggered around the garden and she cut my hair.

 

Amazon says that they will deliver this month’s cider tomorrow! I wasn’t expecting it until the middle of next week. So Easter provides a delicate problem. Will they move the delivery forward a day or two next month? Or back? Perhaps I had better put some aside, just in case. We can skip mother’s day.

 

And I’m nearly finished with the basic knitting of the Baby Surprise. I think you have persuaded me, Sarah, to try it as a pullover (especially since you shared my experience with CATER on Wordle yesterday). That means I will have to brush up my skills in kitchener’ing garter stitch and attaching i-cord (around the neck) but I’ve done both in my time and it shouldn’t be too difficult to re-acquire the skills. It means omitting a few rows of border which would have formed the overlapping flaps for the buttons on whichever side. That in turn means omitting a few (m1, k1, m1)’s which were providing a mitered corner which may prove to have been necessary for the whole thing to lie flat. We shall see.

Be sure to read Kirsten's comment yesterday, about Japanese demons.

 

I failed at Wordle again. Again, the now-familiar situation, where I knew the last four letters of the target word and could only guess at the first one, with several to choose from. I guessed wrong three times.

 

Alexander (who never fails at Wordle) came over from Glasgow – an extravagance he’s not going to be able to maintain much longer – and we got around the garden in the drizzle.

 

And I’m further forward with the Baby Surprise than I really expected to be: I’ll have yarn left over. I discover in Cully’s book a way of finishing it as a pullover (no buttons!) and I’m tempted. I’ll have to decide soon.

 

I tried to look up the question of the sex difference in button placement in Wikipedia, but there didn’t seem to be anything there – although there is a long, scholarly article about buttons. Google produces a couple of pages of speculative articles, but none of the writers would appear to be any better informed than we are. Women had maids to dress them and the buttons were placed conveniently for that purpose. Men needed to conceal a weapon and draw it briskly forth. You pays your money and you takes your choice.

The Ides of March

I got Wordle in three today, with no prizes for astuteness. My two starter words produced four green tiles. No anagram-solving was involved. All I had to do was think of the missing letter and slot it in. It took me an unconscionable length of time to do so. I even wondered if it could be a word I don’t know. I resorted to a dictionary for the first time. I found a couple of letters which at least produced a pronounceable group -- I mean, obviously it wasn’t “x” or “q” – but that didn’t help. I finally gave up and started moving around the kitchen making my breakfast, and then I thought of it. When Helen came to escort me on my walk, I tried her and she got it at once. She doesn't do Wordle.

 

I don’t think I’m spoiling anything for anybody if I tell you that it’s a word you’ll certainly know.

 

Lynne sent me a comment on yesterday’s post which for some reason doesn’t appear, although it was forwarded to my mailbox. She says she got yesterday’s “smelt” in two, having started with “shite”. I think that’s pretty astute – one green and two browns. I couldn’t have done that.

 

So, I walked around the garden. Helen came early. And then had my Tuesday bath.

 

And pressed forward with the Baby Surprise. I’ve now used two of my five graduated colours. I think I’m going to come out about right, yarn-wise.

 

Judy (comment yesterday), it is one of the oddest facts known to nature that men and women have the buttons on their shirts on opposite sides. Has it always been so? Is it so all over the world? Is there a Wikipedia article on the subject? I can remember how surprised I was when I discovered this fact in my teens. EZ says, for the Surprise, to put the buttonholes on both sides and then, when the sex is known, sew the buttons over the holes on one side or the other.

 

It is odd, perhaps, for a woman who seemed so scornful of “Blind Followers”, that she revelled so in the puzzle she was setting in the pattern for the Surprise.

 

 

Wordle in five today, my ush. My two starter words gave me four brown tiles – almost an anagram problem, at which I’m no good. For guesses Three and Four I abandoned the high principles enunciated here yesterday, and guessed words that couldn’t be right, either because they didn’t use all four of my brown tiles, or because they did use one of the six letters I had eliminated, or both. Guess Three was useful, however, because it turned two of the brown tiles into green ones. Four was a complete waste of time. For Five I tightened my belt and submitted a word that might actually have been right, and it was. I will have to be firmer with myself tomorrow.

 

Helen is home from Greece. She came to see me this morning, and we got around the garden. She is distressed at how much the cost of petrol has gone up in the week she was away. She is going to Italy to study mosaics in Ravenna – where better? – next week.

 

I got the census done.

 

And the Baby Surprise is advancing. For those who have done it: one begins with quite a lot of stitches. One marks two of them, a quarter of the way in from each end, and begins by doing a double decrease at those two points every other row for quite a while. Then you switch to increasing at those points instead. That’s where I am, or just beyond. Cully says that that means I am at the underarm of the jacket, and he has illustrations which more or less prove it.

 

No button-sewing. I guess maybe that will wait until the Baby Surprise is ready. For that one, EZ says to postpone the buttons until you know the sex of the recipient.

 

I got Wordle in three. That’s better. My two starter words yielded one green and two brown tiles. I didn’t let myself enter another word until I had thought of one that filled all the requirements – the green in its place, the two browns not in their original places, and no use made of any of the seven common letters I had eliminated. It took me a while to think of a word that qualified, but when I did it worked a treat.

 

And it’s been a pretty good day otherwise. C. and I got around the garden. That’s five days in a row. I advanced the Baby Surprise. I decided that, since I was worried about not having enough yarn, I would knit on until each of the five balls was completely used, even if it meant – as it almost inevitably would – attaching a new yarn on the wrong side. Then I began to entertain the opposite worry – what if I have an abundance of yarn, and this system means that all the colours won’t get used?

 

Well, in that case I’ll know before the end and the final balls can make smaller contributions. Today I finished the first ball. I’m glad I’ve got Cully’s book: after all these years of knitting it blind and bewildered, it’s nice to know where I am. There are quite a few little differences between this original pattern and the one I have been using, although the only one so far is a bit of fulness at the wrist.

I still haven't sewn those buttons onto the Aroon jacket.

 

This week’s Cowal Peninsula essay is a bit tendentious, to my taste. It’s not by Kate herself.

 

I’ve had the monthly preliminary announcement from Amazon that cider will be delivered not this week but next. That means I’ll have some on Mother’s Day which is a nice touch on God’s part. (Mother’s Day in Britain is mid-Lent Sunday, so it moves around the calendar like Easter itself.) But if I want some on Easter, I’ll have to put a bottle or two aside, because the April delivery won't be here by then. I’m quite pleased with my system. It gives me something to look forward to, which diminishes the pangs of temptation.

 

 

Sporting results: France beat Wales last night, as I hoped, but kick-off wasn’t until 8 p.m. so I didn’t watch any of it. Today, Scotland beat poor old Italy, again as hoped but it was a distinctly undistinguished performance. Then Ireland beat England – at Twickenham, which is always harder – in an epic match but I don’t love either team so watched with some indifference. I failed at Wordle again – no excuse. I nearly got there. I should have got there.

Next week -- the final week of this year's season -- Ireland will be here in Edinburgh and on today's form, they'll win; and England will play France, in Paris I think. That could be exciting.

 

It was another pleasant spring day. Archie and I got around the garden, and he harvested some wild garlic for me. But I can’t try it with the nduja until Monday because Daniela brought me some food and I had better eat that tomorrow. She doesn’t come on Sunday. Today I had mussels and linguine, Archie having brought me some mussels. I thought they ought to be consumed first.

 

And I haven’t attached those buttons to the Aroon jacket. I knit onwards with the Baby Surprise while watching rugby. I am beginning to be slightly anxious about whether my five graduated balls are going to be enough. There’s nothing like a bit of yarn-anxiety to spur one forward. And surely there must be something, in a house so well provided with knitting wool as this one, with which I can finish it off.

I see that I have made contradictory statements here on Thursday and Friday, about whether my spell-checker accepts "nduja".  The explanation is that Microsoft Word, in which I compose, is fine with it, but when I transfer the day's prose to Blogger, Blogger objects.

 

 

 

Another good day. C. came, and we got around the garden. I think some of that wild garlic back by the fence is ready for picking. Archie is coming tomorrow – I’ll send him in for it. And then make that nduja and wild garlic pasta.

 

 I failed Wordle – how do brainiacs keep such long winning streaks going? It was one of those familiar Wordle situations where I had four green tiles, but any one of a number of letters could have gone into the empty slot. My two guesses were wrong – but I could think of at least two more, plus of course the right answer. There’s no way to choose except luck. (Unless you have a couple of guesses in hand, and can use one of them to eliminate/identify candidates for the missing slot. Perhaps that’s what brainiacs do.)

 

And I got the ends tidied up on the Aroon jacket. I have found – strictly, Daniela has found – my needles and thread and buttons. I didn’t proceed to that tedious task, and the blocking. I thought I deserved some knitting, so I cast on the Baby Surprise. Buttons tomorrow. I won’t dispatch the finished Aroon to London until Hellie is safely home with yet another daughter. I don’t see how people can bear to have baby showers, with all that can go wrong.

 

I’m awfully pleased with the Aroon. I’ll photograph it for you as soon as it’s a little bit tidier.

 

Kate Davies’ pattern this week is socks. Very nice indeed, but I know I’ll never knit them. I prefer to let the yarn do the patterning. In the days when we went to London three or four times a year, I got lots of socks knit.

 

I got a letter from my energy supplier today saying that over the next year my bills for gas and electricity will go up by £2284.97. I live comfortably, and don’t worry much about money, but I don’t think there’s that much slack in the system. Food is going up, too. I no longer drive. It’s all very well to think of wearing a heavier sweater, now as the light comes back towards the end of an easy winter. They aren’t all easy. Lots and lots of people are going to be harder pressed than I am.

 

Some rugby tonight – Wales v. France. It will last past my bedtime, but I’ll give it a try. (“Vive la France!”) The beginning of a Baby Surprise is ideal rugby knitting. Scotland will play Italy in Rome tomorrow. A loss would be embarrassing, but we ought to pull through. Ireland v. England in London could be a humdinger.

 

(The spelling checker let both “brainiac” and “humdinger” through, but objected to "nduja".)

 

A good day. Daniela and I got around the garden. Wordle in five, which is about the norm for me. Maybe I’m happier not joining Alexander’s group with its daily witness of how much cleverer everybody else is. Queer Joe got it in four, and posted his grid on Facebook. Maybe he does that every day – I’ll start watching.

 

And I’ve cast off the Aroon. The next thing is to inspect my button (and needle, and thread) collection. I think I can face up to that, at least, this evening. I keep my wool needle close to hand – it has a usefully not-straight tip, and was given me by a friend --  but that’s no use here. I want a small pearl-type button with which I won’t have to worry about the colour of the thread.

 

I had a delivery today from Valvona and Crolla, a distinguished Italian delicatessen no longer within my walking range. (I have a friend who saw Princess Anne in there once.) Its website leaves something to be desired, but I navigated it at last, and am very pleased with my purchases. One of them was some nduja, a soft, spicy Calabrian sausage. I bought some in situ when Archie and I were in Reggio Calabria to see the Riace bronzes. Once I had my delivery from V&C I began to wander around the web wondering what to do with it, other than spreading it on crackers, which is delicious. And what should I find but a pasta sauce consisting, effectively, of nothing but nduja and wild garlic! The wild garlic in Drummond Place Garden is nearly ready to be harvested, so I look forward to that.

 

Think of the outraged howls which will go up on the day when Wordle’s word is “nduja”! But my spelling checker recognises it.

 

I also bought a huge and beautiful globe artichoke, which will be my supper tonight.

 

Tamar, encouraged by your approval, I am regularly doing a set of five sits-to-stand when I find myself sitting on the side of the bed. -- two or three times a day. You’re certainly right, that the muscles I mean to exercise, hip and knee, are the ones employed. Can’t do any harm.

 

 

 

The news from Ukraine gets more and more depressing. What is to become of us? Also, I didn’t know that Russia exported so much oil. I thot we were all dependant on Saudi Arabia.

 

Cloudy but dry. Alexander came over, and we got around the garden. Wordle in five – not very distinguished. Alexander has got an app on his telephone – sort of like What’s App, but not – on which he and his family and a friend share their Wordle grills every day. His son Thomas and the friend both got it in three today. I would join and be the class dunce except that I can’t remember my Apple password and the attempt to re-set it defeated even Alexander this morning.

 

I advanced the knitting but didn’t, as I had hoped, cast off the Aroon jacket. Tomorrow, surely.

 

I’ve found a set of graduated colours which I’m pretty sure I bought at the Edinburgh Yarn Festival. 2019 was the last year it happened, but I think this yarn may be even older than that. I think I will knit my Baby Surprise with it, and am wondering whether to graduate the stripes, or to sprinkle them about randomly. Or have random stripes on the body of the Surprise, and graduate them on the bottom flap.

 

A better day, in that I felt normal again. I didn’t walk, because Tuesday is bath day. I failed at Wordle – I found myself in one of those familiar and irritating situations where I had four green tiles but there were a variety of letters which could occupy the empty slot, and I guessed wrong twice.

 

However I did finish the second sleeve of the Aroon jacket and picked up all the stitches for the long, long front binding.

 

When I got up to pee in the night last night – it happens often – I found my ankles entwined with knitting wool. Paradox is lucky I didn’t fall to my death -- although I'm sure she would have been all innocence when my corpse was eventually discovered. I gathered up the work, the yarn, and the ball and put them in a cat-proof place. In the morning I was pleased to find that my beautiful Lykke “driftwood” dps were all still there. I had to spend a certain amount of knitting time untangling the wool; no harm done.

 

However as I was having my lunch today, Paradox appeared in the kitchen carrying the Aroon again. By then it was on a circular needle, and stitches slid off at both ends. I probably should have pulled the edging out and started again but I had found the picking up of all those stitches – 150, more or less – rather tedious, so I made do and the edging is not quite as neat as it would have been without Paradox’ intervention. Clearly I must never put it down again without defending it. I should finish tomorrow, anyway (except for ends, and blocking, and BUTTONS).

 

Comments

 

JennyS, the NHS gave me a nice, high plastic toilet seat on legs, to fit over the permanent one. This has been a great help, since the permanent one is quite unusually low and was becoming difficult to negotiate. The Great Man who used to live in this house must have been very small. They gave it to me to bring home from the hospital in October or whenever it was.  After I had been home about a week, someone appeared at the door with another one which I now have over the toilet in the so-called downstairs lavatory. That one is at a normal height and really doesn’t need extra help but I thought it would be ill-mannered to refuse.

 

Mary Lou, thank you very much for your help with the search for a suitable yarn for that vest in the FT. I think Schiehallion is too soft and perhaps too thick but I will get some out and contemplate it. I will also investigate the other possibilities you mention.

 

 

 

 A funny day, rather a set-back. I have been very weak, although appetite held up well. The sun beamed warmly in the windows, but I didn’t walk. I’ve been back through blog entries for the period just before and after my week in hospital at the end of September. I didn’t learn much, except that I am a little bit stronger than I was then (except for today). I walk around the garden more days than not, which I couldn’t do then, and I’m knitting. (I’m nearly finished with the second sleeve of the Aroon jacket. Tomorrow should see it done.) And I’m reading a bit more seriously – I’m on the third volume of Jan Morris’ Pax Britannica trilogy. We’ve just reached the beginning of WWI.

 

I got Wordle in four today. That’s something.

 

Mary Lou and Beth, do your comments yesterday mean that you’ve got the Weekend FT? If so, can you think of a yarn which would do for that vest? About a 4-ply? We’d need good stitch definition. Nothing too soft.

 

Alas, no, Tamar: one sit-to-stand means one sit-to-stand. I didn’t attempt it today. Our bed is unusually high – Alexander, James and Helen were born in it and my medical attendants expressed pleasure at not having to bend over as much as they usually did for a home delivery. Sitting on the side of it, I can stand up with ease without pushing. But I think that’s cheating somewhat. My feet are firmly on the floor, but my femurs, in the sitting posture, are sloping slightly downwards.

 

A fairly successful day, with sunshine. Wordle in five. A walk with C. A titanic struggle with my telefonino – I inadvertently allowed it to update the software and then couldn’t get into it for lack of my Apple password. I think all is well on that front, too, although I still don't know my Apple password. I regard the little telephone as a safety backup, as well as my falls alarm.

 

Not much knitting, but some, and there’s time for more. I managed only one sit-to-stand. C., who is a year older than the eldest of my children, can still bend over and touch the floor.

 

The KD essay about herring fishing in Loch Fyne (there used to be lots; now there’s none) was very interesting. I forwarded it to Alexander and Ketki.

 

I like the Pressed Flowers shawl, Mary Lou (comment Friday) – and there’s nothing better than teaching something, for learning about it. Been there, done that.

 

There’s a most attractive men’s vest in the How To Spend It section of today’s Financial Times – my one newspaper-on-paper these days, a real weekly treat. A full page colour picture, so crisp that one would scarcely need a pattern. I think I’ll tear the page out.

 

My internet hub has developed alarming symptoms. Will this message-in-a-bottle reach you?

 

Oh, Phyllis, how can I thank you enough for “mouse”! I used it this morning, along with “train”, and got Wordle in four – before breakfast. It was a good start to the day: self-respect restored after those two losses.

 

The day went well in other respects. Daniela came in the afternoon again, and we walked then – and today the sun shone. She’ll revert to mornings next week, which suits me better.

 

I made good progress with the second sleeve of the Aroon jacket:

 

It will need a contrast edging for the fronts and neck, when this sleeve is finished, but I still feel that I’m on the homeward slope. I ordered a new Katcha Katcha. It arrived this afternoon, after my walk, while I was knitting away. Sleeves are decreased at the underarm on every fifth round, and up until now I had been keeping track with papetr and pencil. The Katcha Katcha is much better: I can record the knitting of another round without letting go of the work.

 

Rachel rang up from London. We haven’t spoken for a while, due to my telephone problems. She sounded upbeat (she always does) but her elder son Thomas is in hospital with cellulitis. He is the father of three of the London great-granddaughters. The hospital isn’t allowing any visitors because of Covid. It sounds as if they are getting on top of the cellulitis, which is what matters. It’s not a trivial complaint.

 

I have been working on sit-to-stands with Strong Women Stay Young in mind. There is only one suitable chair here, and it is unfortunately the one that Perdita often sleeps on. She was there this morning, and I didn’t get to use the chair until late afternoon, when I could only manage one. Yesterday I nipped in early and did three. (In the days f my personal trainer, two or three years ago, I could do five with fair ease.) The book says to fold your arms across your chest. I can’t do that – mine flap about to the sides, but at least I don’t use them to push. That’s important. I’ll keep at it.

 

Another fairly successful day. Grey again, but definitely vernal. C. didn’t come – still nursing her cold – so Daniela and I walked in the late afternoon, when I would have thought myself too tired. I finished the first sleeve of the Aroon jacket. The light was fading as I cast it off. I’ll take a picture for you tomorrow. It’s looking good, but it’s going to need a lot of finishing, including – horrors! – a couple of buttons. Horrors! because I'll have to sew them on. I have nothing against buttons per se.

And there'll be more on the Baby Surprise.

 

I failed at Wordle again – twice in succession. I got two vowels in their green places and simply couldn’t think of a word to fit, except for words that used letters I had already eliminated. Some experts say to start with “adieu” (apparently that’s an acceptable English five-letter word: who knew?) for the sake of all those vowels. I like a few consonants, myself. I think my favourite starter is “train” although I have a couple of others. “t” “r” and “n” are all in the top of the letter-frequency alphabet. It didn’t do me much good today. “Adieu” would have been better.

 

This week’s pattern in Kate Davies’ “Argyll’s Secret Coast” club is a very nice all-over Fair Isle of a not-too-complicated sort. The stitch pattern in fact is the same as last week’s “Queen of Auchtachoan” hat. This club has produced some first-rate patterns. And the essay promised for this weekend is about Loch Fyne where Alexander and Ketki live, so that is likely to be interesting.

 

A fairly successful day, despite grey clouds. Alexander came. We got around the garden. I advanced the Aroon jacket sleeve. I paid a couple of bills. It all feels good.

 

Wordle: I failed today. I think somebody commented recently that she has resisted the international enthusiasm because she’s no good at word games. I can’t find the comment, if it exists – but please don’t let that hold you back. I’m terrible at Scrabble, and not very good at crossword puzzles, and held back when both Alexander and Rachel were telling me to do Wordle. Alexander is one for puzzles; Rachel isn’t. But they were both right.

 

I’m very glad that the NYTimes has had the wit to limit it to one a day, so that we can talk about it among ourselves like this.

 

Helen says that my sister recommended Strong Women Stay Young to her years and years ago, when she (daughter Helen) was living in the US. I’m sure it must be the text that my sister herself follows. I haven’t even started trying to build up sit-to-stands yet, but I will soon. It should employ muscles involved in operating hips and thus might help my present discomfort.

 

Helen is going to Thessaloniki tomorrow, for a week. She says the weather forecast is gloomy. I was there at precisely this time many years ago (?20), when Fergus was born, and I remember both wonderful sunshine with frogs in every puddle singing the croaking chorus from Aristophanes; and remorseless rain, the day I went to Philippi. His birthday is tomorrow. Poor Fergus: everybody had wanted a girl. We're quite pleased with him now.

 

A dull, grey day. I didn’t go out – couldn’t, really, because the man was coming to fix the telephone. He came, he fixed it – but he said that my falls alarm was causing the problem. So we (=he and I) rang up the falls alarm people and they came, this afternoon, and took the old alarm away and replaced it with a digital one. It operates by magic, like a mobile telephone, and isn’t connected to the land line at all. So that should be that. Alexander is coming to see me tomorrow, and with luck we’ll walk.

 

I am well advanced with the first sleeve of the Aroon jacket, and prepared to shorten it if I see fit. Babies – children in general – are better without too much sleeve.

 

And Cully’s book came, days sooner than expected. It’s going to be useful. I don’t think I’ve ever knit a plain-vanilla BSJ. I first heard of EZ in an article in one of our Sunday papers. We were invited to send a sae (remember them?) to receive in return a copy of the pattern. I sent the envelope and I got the pattern, mimeographed – that, too, should help date this episode. I knit it many times, and the pregnancy-code names of many of its recipients are inscribed on the pattern. But now I’m not sure where it is, and don’t want to waste time looking. That pattern was a slight variation on the original – it was double-breasted, which meant that the sides weren’t quite on the square. This time I’ll do it EZ’s way, with the help of Cully’s annotations. It will also be possible, at last, to plan it somewhat: he has useful diagrams to show where stripes will end up, depending on when you introduce them.

 

Wordle: yesterday I got RU__E in three. I guessed RUBLE, and it wasn’t for many hours that I realised that that isn’t how you spell “rouble”. Is it an acceptable American spelling? Wordle accepted it, and you’re not allowed to enter nonsense. But it was, of course, wrong. Then I thought of RUCHE and was desperately proud of myself and typed it in with every confidence of being right, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t think of any more words so my sixth guess was one that couldn’t be right, just to see the answer. That guess gave me a brown “P”: if I’d done that earlier, I might have got RUPEE. Today I got three greens with my starter word, and added a fourth with the second guess. But alas! it was one of those Wordle specials where several letters were possible for the empty spot, and no way to choose except by guesswork. I got it in 5.

C spends a lot of time looking after wee Hamish. Today he was allowed to choose what clothes he wanted to put on:

I am flattered, of course, but I also think he has shewn a commendable sense of colour harmony.

 

 

Fat Tuesday

 

It’s enough to persuade me there’s something in astrology (your comment yesterday, Tamar). The sun shone today, and Archie came and we got all the way around the garden where spring is bustin’ out all over. I finished knitting the front of the Aroon jacket and sewed the first side seam. I hope I can persuade myself to sew the second this evening, and perhaps even pick up sleeve stitches starting at one or other of the shoulders.

 

But things are no better in the Ukraine.

 

Strong Woman Stay Young arrived. Cully’s book will take longer because it’s coming from a third-party via Amazon. At a first glance it looks too tough for me. It starts off with a sit-to-stand which I used to do with my personal trainer before she moved to Orkney. You sit on a chair and then stand up, without using your hands to push. In those days I could do five in a row. I’m not sure I can do it even once, now. SWSY wants more than five. But maybe there’s a kindergarten level somewhere in the book for such as I.

 

My sister, in her nearly-mid 80’s, has exercised faithfully for decades and is a great advertisement for the practice.

 

I failed Wordle today. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow if I remember.

 

 

A depressing day, feeling as if everything is wrong, quite apart from the new fear of nuclear annihilation. C. has a cold, and stayed away for my sake. I didn’t go out: the hip was painful. Daniela gave me a massage; that helped. Helen came to see me this afternoon. She says the principal British supplier of mosaic materials is closing down – she doesn’t know what she will do. Other British mosaicists write to her for advice, and she has none to give. She also says that the Black Sea Trade and Development Bank, for which her husband works in Thessaloniki, finds that all its work is drying up,  although for the moment the bank survives, and with it David’s job. When she left, I set to trying to buy “Strong Woman Stay Young” on your recommendation, Joni, and kept getting bizarre messages from Amazon (whom I use at least once a week, not only for books but for most of the other necessities of life) about the need to correct my address. I persevered; at last it accepted the order.

 

These events are totally unrelated but combine to create a feeling of unease.

 

Jenny, you’re probably right (comment yesterday) that I should see a dr about my hip. I fear he might recommend replacement, which I certainly don’t want, but it’s not a good idea to jump to conclusions.

 

On a brighter note, Wordle in five today, and there is only one more increase to do before it will be time for the lower border of the second cross-over front of the Aroon baby sweater. I did order Cully Swanson’s “Complete Surprise”. No difficulty with the address that time. I also received Lynn Barr’s scarf book, and enjoyed renewing my acquaintance with it.

 

We had a beautiful spring day today – March, in fact, often comes in like a lamb and goes out like a lion, contrary to its reputation. Helen and I got across the road and into the garden, but not much further. I have trouble with my left hip; it was much sorer than usual today. So we limped home.

 

I receive almost daily communications from the Harvard Medical School recommending that I buy one or other of their “courses” on various physical problems. Today it was knees and hips, so I bit. I wasn’t impressed. First of all, they asked for a zip code along with my credit card details. Why on earth? I had already supplied a terrestrial address which made it clear that I lived in a country other than the USofA. I finally gave up on that one and supplied my sister’s zip code, with which they were perfectly happy. And secondly, the “course” itself was singularly lacking in helpful suggestions about painful hips. Swimming was recommended.

 

Wordle in four. I watched a Fruity Knitting in which I wasn’t very interested because a lot of it was about embroidery – but it was perfect to knit to, because I didn’t need to look at it much, and I got quite a bit done.

 

I thought a bit about what to knit next – something for the baby wee Hamish will be the big brother of in August. If the sex is known, Christina and Manaba will keep it to themselves. I went to the Schoolhouse Press for inspiration, and found the answer as soon as I walked in the virtual door: a baby surprise. I haven’t knit one of those for a long time, and it’s very good fun. And of course a brilliant stash-buster. Do I want Cully Swansen’s book “A Perfect Surprise”?  It’s rather expensive, but… I was interested to learn – I must already have known and forgotten – that it was for him that the very first one was knitted, by his grandmother EZ.

 

 

France beat Scotland by a rather embarrassing number of points. Wales are now playing England but I don’t feel strong enough to watch, or terribly interested.

 

Still, I got Wordle in three and there was mention in this morning’s newspaper about how difficult yesterday’s was. It was VIVID – the double use of both I and V was what made it hard, so I feel all right about my score of six. Indeed, rather pleased to have got it.

 

Helen came, and we got around the garden, not without effort and perhaps for the first time since Monday. I had a burst of unreflecting optimism the other day: the snowdrops are beginning to look shop-worn; the daffodils are coming up strongly behind them. Soon, I thought, it will be full-scale spring and I will feel stronger too. Only, alas, the chances are good that I won’t.

 

I got some knitting done, as hoped, during the rugby. I’m doing the second cross-over front on the Aroon baby-jacket, and doing the increases for the slope in this direction isn’t quite as easy as it was for the first side. But I think I’m getting the hang of it.

 

Kate Davies’ “Argyll’s Secret Coast” club has produced another good pattern – a many-coloured stranded hat called The Queen of Auchtachoan. I even wondered for a moment whether I wanted to send for a kit. But it’s expensive, and I’ve got too long a list of must-knits. I remain tempted, too, by the two-sided cable scarf which was last week’s pattern. There has been no essay yet for this week.

 

Last week’s essay was about the remains of a ruined village. We’ve got one of those on the outskirts of Kirkmichael, and other ruined houses as well. I hope there’s some speculation, at least, about their history in our now 60-year accumulation of family observations and notes.

 

And speaking of 60 years: Chloe, Helen greatly enjoyed your comment on Thursday -- “Oh to be 60 again!” She’s just had that birthday.

 

The BBC has a huge team in the Ukraine, and the same must be true of every other news-gathering organisation in Europe and some beyond. How are they to be extracted?

 

It was a brisk and pleasant early spring day, but C. and I  didn’t get very far. At least, outside the door. 

Wordle took me all six guesses today. It was rather a tricky one, although perfectly fair (=not obscure, like “agora”; not slang; not British). And I got on reasonably with the knitting, starting down the second side of the cross-over chest of the Aroon. Another weekend of rugby looms (France is here) – maybe I’ll make some real progress.

 

I think Feliway – is that what it’s called? – may be doing Perdita some good. She’s spending more time out and about with the rest of us, instead of skulking in the spare room, and her tummy looks better.

 

 

 

A sad day for the world.

 

The weather has been cold and hostile here, with a powdering of snow at first. I didn’t walk. The tax accountant came back with lots of returns for me to sign. Once I’ve paid her – no small amount – that should be that, tax-wise, for nearly a year. It’s a good feeling. Helen has recently exercised her Enduring Power of Attorney and now has access to my bank accounts. She is going to go up to the splendid Royal Bank of Scotland branch in St Andrew Square and pay what the accountant says I owe the Queen. That will be strangely easier than doing it myself on the computer. But it still left me too flat to slog around Drummond Place Gardens.

 

I finished that first front of the Aroon jacket at last.

 

It took me all six guesses to get Wordle this morning. I saw some headlines as I was firing it up which suggested that some people disapproved of today’s word because it was too British. I disapproved because it was too slang-y. It’s not a word I would ever use.

 

Helen pointed out this morning that she was nearly as old as my husband was when he retired. It’s a disconcerting thought, and even more true of her sib (Helen is the youngest). Alexander’s 62^nd birthday looms – he’s the one who has never been forgiven for not being born on the 29^th of February.

My land line is still not working, I don't even know how to approach the problem, but I realised today that I had better figure it out and do it, because if it isn't working my falls alarm -- I wear it around my neck -- isn't either. 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, February 22

 

There is little to report. Wordle in four. (The site says I now have a winning streak of five – and that that’s the longest I’ve ever had. So the pressure will be on, tomorrow.) My new accountant came to see me – with Helen for support – and showed me a lot of paper which proved, she said, that I owe a lot of tax. I don’t understand why they never ask me for it, if that is so. I believe Alexander is coming to see me tomorrow, and I can ask him about it.

 

In the afternoon Archie came, in order to be here when the graphics card arrived. As he was.

 

I’ve done a bit more knitting, and am ready for the border at the bottom of the first of the cross-over fronts of the Aroon jacket.

 

I wrote that much last night, and then forgot to post it. You didn’t miss much.

 

Alexander came to see me today. He brought a little tub of kimchi which Ketki had bought for me on the Byres Road. I used to push her husband along it in his pram, before kimchi was invented (or at least, before it was heard of) and before the Byres Road had chi chi shops. As it happened, I had put some of my latest batch of kimchi into an empty mustard pot to give Alexander, so we exchanged kimchis.

 

Wordle in four, so my winning streak is extended. It sounds as if Alexander always wins. And he thinks it’s quite normal for the income tax man not to ask me for the money I owe. It seems odd to me. Why don’t I just drift happily on, and leave them to settle up when I’m dead? I can’t do that, now that an accountant is involved. He also thought it was perfectly normal for my Visa card provider to query a small payment to GiffGaff (to keep my mobile telephone going) and nod through the purchase of a computer graphics card.

 

I’ve done a little more knitting: I’ve reached, but not finished, the border at the bottom of the first of the Aroon fronts

 

 

 

 

 

Else and Anonymous (comments yesterday): You’re right, Lynne Barr’s Knitting New Scarves is the book I was trying to remember. I knew as soon as I read your comments, because I have a friend whose name is Chris Barr. (We hear a lot about Artificial Intelligence these days. I think the human brain will stay ahead as long as it can make completely illogical and correct leaps like that one.) It’s not on my scarf shelf, and I haven’t consulted it for years, so I ordered another. It was pretty cheap on Amazon because several libraries were de-accessioning it.

 

When I am gathered to my reward, which can’t be far off now, if my children notice duplicate copies when they are clearing the house, they will think, poor old thing, she forgot she had it and bought another. Not a bit of it: she knows she has it, and is desperate to consult its pages. Drop Dead Easy Knits is another of which I have two: I was desperate in that case, I think, to knit Mary Lou’s Pollywog pattern again.

 

My card seems to be functioning again. (See Thursday the 17^th) I ordered a graphics card for Archie today. He’s going to pay me back in instalments. You’d think if the Accts Dept were on the ball, they’d wonder why a blameless old woman in Drummond Place wanted a graphics card. It wasn’t cheap.

 

I spent some more time with the new Gaughan book. It gets more and more interesting. But for us mortals, EZ is much more use. But I love Meg’s anecdote in her book Knitting, introducing the Box-the-Compass sweater. EZ had the idea of rotating the four raglan seams of her EPS sweater so that they ran up the sleeve top, and mid-front and mid-back. She went ahead and knit a whole adult sweater. Her idea  worked fine on the sleeves “but the centers front and back stood out in sharp cone-shaped points. Even in the face of that physical evidence – so unused was she to being wrong – Elizabeth came up and patted me on the breastbone. ‘Oh, that’ll block out,’ she said. Nuh-uh.”

 

No knitting again today – but I got around the garden with Daniela, and I got Wordle in three again. Pure luck: my starter word produced one brown tile. I tried another starter in the second row, and got two more browns. In the third row I thot I’d try one of my browns in the first place – it can be useful to know the starting letter. I managed to think of a word that did that and also incorporated the other two. Bingo! But pure luck.

 

I heard from my sister today. She and her husband are in a retirement community in DC. She says she is under a lot of pressure to try Wordle but is so far resisting. That must be true of many of you, and you must forgive me if you can for rabbiting on about it.