Cold, very.

  Sylvia’s funeral is tomorrow. This time last week she was busy with Thanksgiving.

   A busy day here. Wafa is back, and has taken over. A nice man has come and exposed the leaking pipe in the downstairs lavatory — remember that? — so that another nice man can come on Friday and mend it. 

  I am continuing to read The Running Grave, the new JK Rowling. I had completely failed to notice how utterly enormous it is. It feels as if I ought to be 75% of the way through at least. The truth is 41%. She had better be lurking with a couple of hats, at least, each containing a first-rate rabbit, or I may be forced to give up.

   Not much knitting. I made a brioche swatch. That helped somewhat. I simplified the make-one-lefts and make-one-rights in the actual pattern. I started yet again. My only ambition now is to progress far enough that I can sweep past mistakes. 

   Wordle: five for me and Roger and Rachel, four for Alexander and Mark, three for Ketki and Thomas. No news from Theo. His mother says that he has not really recovered from the Covid that kept him away from Thanksgiving in London. 

 The first thing I did, when I heard of Sylvia’s death, was to write to the third member of the Gang of Three we once formed. Her name is Ann and she lives near Seattle. I didn’t hear from her all day yesterday. I’d know if she were dead, but I feared incapacity. But I heard from her this morning. I had forgotten to allow for the time difference. She’s fine or as fine as anyone is at 90. 

  One of my food magazines in this morning’s post has an interview with Madhur Jaffrey. She shares my birthday — not just day and month but also year. She sounds fitter than I am, but not much stronger. 

  Knitting has progressed. I have embarked on the Spalding, trying to take it an instruction at a time, as advised. The instructions are abundant, in the Brooklyn Tweed fashion. But I don’t think they are as clear as they might be. However, I think I’m getting on top of it. Fifth attempt? Something like that. Half-strength fisherman’s rib is not being done the way I remember. I think it’s best (blind follower that I am) to figure out the instructions and try to follow them, rather than trying at this stage to improve then.

   The yarn is BT’s Tones, two shades of. It’s rather super.

   Bad news and grey skies sent me back last night to my blog entries of a year ago. I’ve lost a surprising amount of ground since then.

  Wordle: four for me today. I was joined there by Rachel, Roger and Theo. Thomas, Mark and Ketki three. Alexander today’s star with a two.

 My friend of 70 years, Sylvia Huntley Horowitz, writes a private blog, available only to subscribers. She is avyear old than I am — we met at Oberlin. But much more active. She lives alone with her cat Frankie, but family lives nearby and she sees them frequently. She hosts a Sabbath meal almost every Friday, for family and occasional rabbis. A five-mile walk every week with fellow-retired-faculty from the local university. And much else. The last message I had from her was on Saturday. Thanksgiving had been cleared away, the good plates washed and dried by hand and carefully replaced in their cupboard. Then a substantial party went out to an Indian restaurant to celebrate her great-grandson Mendel’s second birthday. He cheerfully ate Indian food, Sylvia reported.

  Then in the next few hours she fell and hit her head and had a stroke — I do not know the sequence of those events — and died in hospital a few hours later.

   I am shaken, and very sad. It is, for Sylvia, a very enviable death. But for me another black day in a black season. We've just had my husband’s birthday. We are a couple of days away from the anniversary of saddest day in my family history.  

 I failed at Wordle today, which seems rather appropriate. I achieved grn, grn, ???, ???, grn by line 3, and persistently guessed wrong. Mark had that configuration too, for a while, but shook himself out of it in time to score six. Five for Alexander and Thomas. Four for Rachel, Ketki, Theo and Roger.

 Cold. That’s what it is.

   Thank you for your comments. I think you have established that bread sauce is not commonplace in the USofA. It is essentially bread crumbs soaked until they swell in warm, seasoned milk with a generous addition of butter. In these days of Google, it shouldn’t be hard to find a recipe. Delicious. Alexander and Ketki were here today. She is American, and agrees thatwe don’t have bread sauce and that it is one of the best things about Christmas. She, also, gives a slight edge to cranberry sauce.

   Two pieces of (mild) excitement today:

   (1) I started reading Robert Galbraith’s (=JK Rowling’s) new thriller, The Running Grave, because it was so highly recommended in some newspaper as a book-of-the-year. I’m enjoying it. I thought the last Cormoran Strike book was a bit flat. Had she run out of steam? This one, so far, is back on form. 

   (2) The yarn for Spalding arrived from Brooklyn Tweed. (That was quick.) I had told you I was hovering, but hadn’t mentioned that I succumbed because I felt rather guilty about it.

   The yarn is beautiful, I still love the pattern, but a first horrified glance-over made me wonder whether I was capable of it. It’s top-down, and begins with some slightly fancy yoke shaping. I’ll feel braver in the morning.

Wordle: Three for Ketki and Roger. Four for Thomas, Alexander and Mark. Five for Theo and Rachel and I. WordleBot was kind enough to say that I was unlucky in my fourth-row choice.

 No crises today. The new carer is named Judith. We have had a peaceful time of it. Alexander and Ketki are coming tomorrow. I bought his Christmas present recently — the only one so far. Helen came this morning and kindly wrapped it up for me.

  And the knitting has advanced. Knitting the body, each one of the three-round stripes takes so long that it qualifies as a day’s work. Now, the stripe is finished in an instant and it’s time to fasten in another colour. I’ve done the basic arithmetic — how to space the increases. We shall see. I’m confident. This is not my first EPS.

  The Londoners are going to have their Thanksgiving anyway tomorrow. Theo has sent them the spreadsheet. He is a brilliant organiser. I’ve heard a bit of it, and was surprised that bread sauce wasn’t included. Is that just a British thing? It was my husband’s favourite bit of Christmas dinner and has almost become mine although I remain faithful to cranberry sauce in the end.

   If it is particularly British, it’s another reason for being sorry that Theo and his family aren’t coming — we could have introduced them to bread sauce. 

   Tomorrow will be the first time that Rachel and Ed’s nine grandchildren — seven girls and (recent additions) two boys — will all have been together.

   Wordle: we were scattered about today. Mark scored two, as he not infrequently does. Roger needed five. Most of the British scored four, including me. Theo and Alexander were the threes.

     I don’t know why the font size skips about in this unmannerly fashion. It’s time I faced up to using the computer (instead of the iPad) for composition again.

 Today/yesterday’s excitement has been that my new carer, Michelle, developed a severe allergy to life in Drummond Place, presumably because of Perdita. So an emergency carer has been flown in, so to speak, named Judith, and Wafa will come back on Wednesday. 

  Perdita takes it all rather calmly. She seems to know that with Wafa away, she must apply to the next carer for cat food, but in fact she is getting it all from me. No luck with luring her to bed, but it’s only been one night.

  I still have a little bit of sweater cuff to knit. I am what EZ classified as a “blind follower” if ever there was one, and find it slightly unnerving not to know how much cuff I am aiming at. Carry on until it looks about right, and do that much again for the other sleeve. Those four copies of Knitter’s from 2000 which I can’t find translated it all into a simple raglan sweater.

   I hope you have all enjoyed your turkey. Theo, who has Covid, isn’t feeling too bad. I hope he will have been able to celebrate with his family and his parents. Meanwhile I am told that the London party is to go ahead without him, being the first time that all the London cousins -  all of Rachel’s grandchildren, to put it another way — have been together in one place. Seven girls and (recent additions) two boys. 

  Wordle: nobody had much trouble today. Threes and fours everywhere. Alexander, Thomas and Theo were the fours. No news yet from Mark. 

 Wafa is gone. Michelle is here. It’s all more than slightly scary, when you’re as helpless as I now am.  But Michelle seems very nice, and all is well. And anyway I think Helen will be around this evening. 

  Quite a bright day, although very cold, I am told. I knit very happily on, and should finish the ribbing for the first sleeve tomorrow. Meg says in the EPS leaflet which arrived opportunely from Schoolhouse yesterday that you can use the system to knit in either direction, but she prefers to do it this way — get the relatively boring body out of the way first. The rest goes so much faster.

  I’m certainly finding it fun so far to whiz around a 60-stitch wrist as opposed to a 288-stitch body.

  Perdita has begun to notice Wafa’s absence and is worried (as am I) that I won’t be up to feeding her.

  Wordle: I would regard today’s word as on the tough side, and was pleased with my four. My two starters yielded two brown vowels. I struggled for a long time to think of any word that would fit, and finally hit on one that was much less than satisfactory. I knew it would be wrong, but it turned both vowels green. After much thought and messing around, I found a fully-qualified guess, and it was right.

  Theo and Alexander got the threes. Thomas and Mark were my fellow-fours. Ketki and Rachel were the fives. Roger needed six.

 Wafa’s last day for a while. All is stress and anxiety.

And on top of that, Theo and his family aren’t on the way after all. He has COVID. They weren’t planning to celebrate until Saturday which perhaps leaves a little time to cancel the turkey and freeze the cranberries. But it’s sad.

  I reached the armholes of my EPS sweater. And what should arrive in this morning’s post but the Schoolhouse Press EPS leaflet!  I spent much of the day hovering on the brink, calculating and re-calculating the sleeve. I finally cast it on and actually ribbed a few rounds.   

  Thank you, Mary Lou and Sarah, for your comments about the cat. Alas, I can’t find what I wrote on the subject. I think with a little rearrangement I will be able to feed her myself. I’ll put a folded blanket at the foot of my bed, which is how she used to like to sleep. We shall see. Maybe she’ll prefer to stay in the kitchen with the Aga.

  Wordle: threes and fours without exception today. Alexander and Ketki were the only fours, on either side of the pond.

 Bits of brightness today, too.

The sourdough turned out well, Robin, although perhaps not quite well enough. We made two loaves this time. Wafa wanted to bake one on Saturday evening. I left the other to rise overnight in the refrigerator. I think I got slightly better oven spring with mine but I think we can do better.

Wafa is going off for a fortnight’s respite on Wednesday. Her replacement is from Zimbabwe. I hope to win my dear cat back. I don’t think it will be impossible to feed her myself and maybe she will remember that she always used to share my bed, before I introduced that Awful Cat. 

Archie came to lunch. 

I knit busily on and have at last reached the underarms. Now I must work out what to do next. 

 My nephew Theo and his family are coming to celebrate Thanksgiving with his English cousins in London. Theo is organising it all from afar.

Wordle: I was lucky to scrape home with a six today. The home team otherwise were all threes and fours. And it was fours in DC for Theo and Roger. Perhaps I should mention,  honoris causa, that the threes were Alexander, Mark, and Ketki. 

 A brighter day, and a successful lunch party. “Kedgeree” has been added to Wafa’s extensive English vocabulary. We used Delia Smith’s recipe. Wafa also made some tabouleh. 

  I watched a lot of the new issue of The Crown last night. Not much more than mildly amusing.

  Helen and I have been doing paperwork, as I mentioned. One of her problems is to reactivate an account of mine which the bank has frozen because they say I don’t use it enough. She phoned — she has power of attorney. The bank kept asking what she wanted to do. She kept telling them. If that’s the best AI can do, I don’t think we need to worry yet about its taking over the world. 

  Wordle: four was the basic score today — Theo, Alexander, Thomas, Mark. Rachel and I scored five. Ketki was a brilliant three. Roger hasn’t done it yet. 

  

 Guess what? Grey and wet. Perhaps slightly less cold. We have been concerned with sourdough all day. It’s now waiting in the refrigerator overnight. I either supervised or actually performed all the operations myself — if this one comes out flat, I’ll know where to start looking for changes.

  No knitting at all.

  We’re having a little lunch party tomorrow— C. and Helen and David. Kedgeree and middle-Eastern sides. Perhaps with a bit of freshly-baked bread.

  Matthew Parris’ column in this morning’s Times is first-rate, I thought, on the situation in Gaza. I won’t attempt to paraphrase.

  I watched a mildly interesting bit of Youtube yesterday about a Frenchwoman who communicates with animals mentally. (Why on earth did I do that? It’s no wonder I get so little knitting done.) She said animals were just like us in respect to various emotions.

  Where they are not like us is in respect to modesty. I have always thought it rather clever of the Old Testament authors to spot and exploit that point right at the beginning.

  Wordle: I had an almost instantaneous three today, joined there by Rachel and Mark. Alexander and Ketki scored four; Thomas needed five. Fours for father and son — Roger and Theo — in DC.

My policy these days is to struggle with what my two starters provide until I find a serious possible answer. Instead of settling for a Jean-word.

 

  

  

  

 Another grey, cold day, full of eventful non-event. Little was accomplished. C. dropped in. Helen has gone to London.  I did a bit of on-line Christmas thinking: no actual purchases. And I knit a bit. I took the sweater into the kitchen for some serious measuring, and found it no longer than before. Knitting has treated me like that before now.

  Thank you very much for your help on blogs. I had forgotten about the Socklady. I’ve even met her, once when she was passing through Edinburgh. Still alone in her mountain fastness, I was glad to see. Still with bears in the yard. But the last message was more than three months ago.

  Queer Joe has a delightful knitted chicken on his blog today.

   Wordle: I scored four today. No excuse for not getting three. I had all the information I was going to get — a green and two browns — and simply guessed an improbable word, although one which fully qualified. Wordle accepted it, but it was wrong.

  Mark scored two — again. Rachel and Ketki were the threes,  Alexander joined me on four, Thomas was an uncharacteristic five. The transatlantic team, Roger and Theo, were both four. 

  

  

  

  

 And yet another grim, grey day, perhaps a bit less wet than some. Fairly eventful, although now that we have successfully reached the harbour of evening, it’s hard to remember anything of interest.

 A man came and measured me for a reclining chair. There was that.

 Knitting has progressed. One more round, to finish the current stripe, and it will be time, I’m sure, to do something else. Start knitting sleeves? 

 What’s happened to knitting blogs? I still hear from Queer Joe, most days — currently celebrating an unbelievable 40th anniversary with Thaddeus. I had a look at the Yarn Harlot just now — nothing since August. Thank goodness Meg writes occasionally. 

  Wordle: a quick and easy three for me this morning. My starters gave me four greens. There was at least one possibility beyond the right one, but I guessed right.

  Mark scored an unbelievable two. Rachel was with me on three, Thomas and Ketki four, Alexander five. Three for Roger, four for Theo.

 Another November day. This morning a neighbour whose family used to have a house in Kirkmichael — a big house — came for coffee, with Helen. We had a good time sharing pictures and memories.

I knit industriously on. I must be very near the armhole now. I really must take a picture for you. It’s looking good. But no matter how much mojo returns in these last grey weeks, I am unlikely to finish in the calendar year. That means very little has been accomplished this year, only the two shawls. 

I don’t feel entirely well. Bowels, however, not lungs  — a good deal less worrying.

Wordel: Three forThomas and his mother Ketki. Four for me and  my son Alexander.  Five for Rachel.  Silence from Mark. Roger joined Thomas and Ketki with another three— the day’s stars. Theo scored four, like me and Alexander.

 Dreadful November weather, grey and spitting with rain. Helen and Daniella — my former cleaner/carer — came to lunch. Both well. Daniella has a family of her own and can’t provide the live-in care I now need.

I feel droopy, and Wafa says I seem below par. 

Wafa insisted on doing the sourdough by herself. She had baked it before I appeared  in the kitchen at 7 a.m. It tastes nice, but again lacks oven spring and since I was excluded from the process at several crucial points, I am no nearer diagnosing the trouble. I know that the starter was lively. Helen took half of the bread home. 

Some knitting, not much.

A certain amount of discussion about getting me to Helen’s house on Christmas day. As recently as June (I think) I used to go to Mass with C. every week, descending the six steps outside my door by holding on tight to the railing with one hand and to C.’s hand with the other. Everybody says I am not strong enough to do that any more. The current thought is that I could be bumped down (and up) in my wheelchair by strong men, of which Helen has a good supply. 

You’re right, Mary Lou, that homemade are the best Christmas presents. I have but rarely, in a long life, allowed myself to knit presents. These dark, wet days are bad enough without adding nervous tension. There have been exceptions, including the memorable Christmas when I knit everybody a hat. 

Wordle: a true stinker today. I scored six, which was no disgrace — Roger, Theo, and Alexander failed. Five for Rachel and Mark, four for Ketki and Thomas (the stars of the day). I didn’t think much of the word, either. 

 A bit of storm today, with a fair bit of rain. 

I’ve done some knitting, worried now about my future capacity to do it. The shoulder feels mildly uncomfortable. The doctor when he was here recently recommended pain killers. I don’t take them, except occasionally at night, but I might try. 

Otherwise it has been a busy-seeming day. Archie came, and we gave him lunch. Helen came in the evening, much occupied with a multi-paged application for Assisted Living Allowance. If we get it, it will go some way to paying for Wafa. An NHS representative came in the morning a propos our application for free incontinance pants. That one seems hopeful. 

The newspapers are much occupied at this season with lists of things you might want to give people for Christmas. Sixty years ago I used to read such lists and reflect on how expensive everything was — nothing I could afford. And the same is true now that I am old and reasonably well-off. 

Wordle: I got a three all of my own today. The other threes were Rachel, Alexander, and Thomas. Ketki and Mark needed four. Much the same in DC: three for Roger, four for Theo.

 We baked our sourdough. I wasn’t satisfied with the “oven spring”. Did we over-proof it yesterday? It was very lively. Or did we put it in the oven before it was hot enough this morning ? I forgot that Wafa turns the Aga down at night. She says that the bread tastes fine. I am eager to try again.

The weather was bright — sunny and cold. C. came. 

And I knit onwards a bit. I am beginning seriously to wonder whether I have lost the knack.

We are watching — Wafa is watching — a film about samurai. It’s a Japanese film, rather well-made. Everybody mounts and dismounts his horse on its right side.In Britain and the US at least, horses are mounted and dismounted from the left, invariably. Wafa says, doubtfully, that she thinks it’s from the right in the middle east. What an interesting and unexpected difference!

It’s not that the film is being shewn the wrong way around — everybody is conducting sword fights with their right hands.

Wordle: Wafa solved ours, again. My starters gave me one green and three browns. I refused to allow myself a Jean-word but much thought failed to produce an answer. Any answer. Wafa looked over my shoulder and got it quickly. So we scored three.

Three also for Mark and Alexander. Four for Ketki and Rachel and Thomas. Theo was another three, and Roger an outlier with five.

 

 Brightness continued. Our day has been devoted to making sourdough again — the actual baking to be done tomorrow morning. The trouble with sourdough is that everybody does it differently. Levain or just bung in some starter? Knead or stretch and fold (or both)? One prove or two? How to shape dough at the end? Plus the constant twin anxieties about not enough  yeast action from your home-made starter, or too much, so that it collapses at the end.

It’s good fun, but oh dear. Very little knitting as a result. No visitors.

Chloe, thank you for your advice about the EPS. I haven’t tried to use my printer for a long time, and I fear it would ignore my instructions. It’s a nuisance. There’s a lot I’d like to print — patterns, mostly. I’ve been working from my Ravelry library — no fun. There’s a problem I ought to face up to.

Wordle: I scored four all by myself (no help from Wafa) today — a pretty poor show. Two for both Alexander and his pal Mark. Three for Ketki and Rachel and Thomas. Over in DC, a comforting four from Roger, silence from Theo. 

 A brighter day — and goodness, sunshine does lift the spirits. I had a bath this morning, and a pedicure this evening and am nothing if not clean.

Tamar, I meant to say: I agree about re-reading favourite passages from favourite books. I do that with Il Gattopardo from time to time: the dinner party where Tancred and Angelica first meet, the scene in which the Leopard is forced to ask her ill-bred (but enormously rich) father for her hand on Tancred’s behalf, the ball, the death of the Leopard, the final chapter. But Mansfield Park is so closely constructed that I find nothing for it but to re-read the whole.

Knitting moves forward, still slowly. I have now done about 13 of the 15 inches needed before the underarm and its decisions. I had an email from the Schoolhouse Press today, signed by Cully himself, to say that the EPS booklet I ordered will cost more because of inordinate postage. I must send more money or go for digital and let them send me money. I think I’ll stick with the print version.

Wordle. I scored a disgraceful five today because i overlooked one of the two browns I got for my starters. I also had two greens. If I had paid proper attention I might have scored four or even three. But the overlooking is a worrying feature.

Threes all round elsewhere, except four for Theo and a brilliant two for Rachel

Again, a fairly bright day. Helen came and we dealt with some financial papers. Archie came to lunch. We gave him a Thai lamb salad of Nigella’s, well received, and kept back some lamb for Wafa to overcook for herself. She made some pleasant middle-Eastern side dishes. 

I knit onwards. Time to measure again. Time to decide exactly what I’m going to do when I reach armhole height.  

I watched a bit of the latest Fruity Knitting. The main interview is with a man who embroiders on knitting. I think I can skip him. The preliminary interview is about the sheep and the women of Iceland. That was interesting. Fruity Knitting hopes to visit Iceland in person next year.

We received particulars of the carer who will replace Wafa for a fortnight alarmingly soon. She’s from Zimbabwe and looks very nice. But it’s scary. 

I didn’t really finish this, but it’s time for bed. I failed Wordle today, no help from Wafa either. And it wasn’t a funny word. I just failed.

 

A brighter  day.

The knitting moved forward. Maybe I’m not too slow. Maybe it’s just that there’s a lot of it. I didn’t think about the Spalding today.

C. came this morning. Archie will be here tomorrow, for lunch. I’ll go for a salad from Nigella’s Express book. It’s based on a briefly-roasted fillet of lamb. Wafa doesn’t like rare meat, but we did well the other day by frying a steak briefly for me and leaving her to deal with the subsequent career of the other half. I think we can do the same tomorrow.

We have been watching horrifying pictures of Just Stop Oil demonstrators trying to smash up Velasquez’ Rokeby Venus. The reinforced glass stood up to them. It wouldn’t have happened if my husband had been Director  of the National Gallery. He would have had an alert custodian on duty in that and every other room. And if he was short-staffed, the room would have been closed. Velasquez!

Wordle: A funny one, to my taste. Wafa helped again, after I had struggled mightily. My starters gave me three browns. I finally found a fully-qualified line three — I then had two greens and a brown. She got it from there — four for us.

Alexander, Rachel, and Ketki needed five. Mark and Thomas joined us on four.  Theo five, Roger six. At least nobody failed. I think I might have done so, without Wafa.

Not too bad a day. Even some sunshine. Helen dropped in briefly. 

I have knit steadily on. I’ve measured again — singularly little progress. I have begun to worry about whether I suffer from more than torpor. Is that a twinge of arthritis  in my right shoulder? Or would I do better in another chair? 

I have continued to think about Brooklyn Tweed’s Spalding. Thank you for your sensible advice. But… I do like their Tones yarn. Loop in London stocks it, at about the same price-per-skein — but there would be no danger of a tremendous customs charge being imposed on the package when it arrived. Well, we shall see. I’ll keep you posted.

We watched some of the State Opening of Parliament this morning. I thot it would be good for Wafa but she turned out to be in the camp of those who think it is all  a waste of money. She asked about the significance of the poppies being worn in the lapels of the commentators. 

I had never heard of the Cap of Maintenance before, that I can remember. Wikipedia is interesting on the subject.

Wordle: Threes and fours for the British this morning, but silence from Mark. I was one of the threes, along with Rachel and Ketki. Roger and Theo both needed four. My three was really Wafa’s.

 I am sorry for yesterday’s silence. I felt droopy. There was nothing measurable wrong, and I wasn’t coughing. I think I feel better now. The droopiness may have been due to a three-day course of antibiotic I was taking because an infection had shewn up in a urine sample I had submitted for some reason or other.

  I have done some knitting, but I’m still not getting that delicious round-and-round feeling. I have let myself think about Brooklyn Tweed’s Spalding pattern. I have a dear sweater of my own knitting in the same stitch pattern, half-brioche. (If you do it on a DP anduse two colours and push the stitches back and forth, you can have vertical stripes.) My dear old sweater has fallen victim to moths, although I still wear it instead of a dressing gown in the morning.

  So I’d quite like a Spalding. But Brooklyn Tweed yarns are so very expensive as to cause even me to hesitate.

   Thanks for your book suggestions. I have fallen back on dear old Mansfield Park for the moment, but it’s long. I may not read all of it on this, my millionth visit.

Wordle: a most remarkable day.Half of the British-resident coterie scored three, the other half TWO. The twos were Alexander, Mark, and ME. In the USofA, Roger kept the pattern going with a three, but Theo needed four. 

The weather was marginally less awful today, with even a few shafts of winter sunshine. Helen came. We got some financial chores done. She is worried about the new neighbour who appeared on the scene yesterday with a leak. I am not, as explained yesterday. We still don’t know whether Wednesday’s stormy rain penetrated the bathroom below our Downstairs Lavatory. 

And i’ve knit on. I’ve measured — there are only about 10” and I want 15 or so before I start fussing about armholes. I’ve got about 285 stitches and, as I said, a circumference takes a long time. I accomplished about an inch today.

Helen left her dog Farouk with us today. Wafa likes dogs better than cats and enjoyed taking him for walks.

I haven’t found anything to read since Osman. In fact, I feel rather more droopy than weather and season would entirely dictate. One of the many great things about reading on line — I have a Kindle app on my beloved iPad — is that you don’t have an accusing pile of half-read books in a corner of the room.

 Wordle: A toughish one again today. Mark scored three. Rachel needed five. Four for all the rest of us.

 

A miserable November day, on the one hand. But a promising one, on the other.

 

We received a hand-delivered letter from a neighbour about water getting in to their flat. They weren’t blaming us, just informing. If their investigations reveal a cause due to a defect in a communal building, we might have to help pay for communal repairs.

 

It is very hard to figure out how the buildings inter-relate around here. The ground behind Drummond Place runs very steeply downhill. Water – weather-related water, I am sure – is getting in to three flats on a level with us, or below. We have been living without our Downstairs Lavatory since June, or the assumption that the offender was a hard-to-reach pipe of ours. But maybe it wasn’t. The next thing to find out is whether the flat immediately below the Downstairs Lavatory has had any water in during recent storms. Is there a window in their bathroom? There is undoubtedly something wrong with the guttering somewhere above. Water sometimes comes down in sheets. William of Occam, my comfort in many a crisis, would agree that a common cause should at least be considered for all these leaks.

 

I’ve knit a bit, but not much. I don’t seem to be able to get myself into the expected happy knit-round-and-round groove. I hope this doesn’t mean that knitting is giving way, like walking.

Thank you for your comments on nursing homes. My mother had a very good deal, obviously -- no increase in the monthly payment even if she needed care. She didn't appreciate it and eventually went to live somewhere else where, predictably, she did need care and spent all her capital. 

 

Wordle: I was the first to log in this morning, with an embarrassing six. I felt better when Ketki and Theo did equally badly. Sixes are rare around here. Thomas got five. All the others scored four. I guess it was a tough word.

 Absolutely filthy weather. Our downstairs neighbour so far has had no more water in (and is being perfectly pleasant about what came in the other day, unlike the neighbour beneath the Downstairs Lavatory).  

  The accent yarns I ordered from Shetland the other day, arrived today. A pleasant surprise. Knitting has progressed, but it’s a long way round. The new yarn was a spur. I got some counting and marker-placing done, too. Tomorrow I must measure and plan. I think I might as well aim for something like the Norah Gaughan sweater — a cardigan with dropped shoulders and a deep v-neck. 

   Wafa had never heard of Shetland.

   I’ve finished the new Richard Osman book, and thot it inferior to its predecessors. He seems perfectly satisfied and promises more. One small thing: it is set (they all are) in a very upmarket retirement community. In this one, one of the minor characters is increasingly demented and is contemplating removal from the community into a care home.

   I think that is the big difference between here and the US. I think the community my mother was in in NJ, and the one where my sister and her husband now live in DC, offer nursing care when and if needed in exchange for the down payment on entry. A system with obvious advantages for the patient. 

   Wordle: We were evenly divided between threes and fours today, four candidates each. I was one of the threes, I am pleased to report, along with Thomas, Ketki, and Mark. 

 It’s been a stormy day, calming down now. Various problems, of which perhaps the most serious is a leak in the flat downstairs not previously affected. It coincided with a period of violent storm and doesn’t seem to lie under any of our plumbing, but there are odd features which will have to be investigated. And it’s a complication we could certainly do without.

Knitting went forward peacefully. I didn’t get much done, however. The difficulty about the EPS is that I have somewhere and somehow mislaid four consecutive issues of Knitters— in which Meg knits a sweater with us while explaining and perhaps in some details modifying the system. One of the issues has EZ on the cover. It was just after her death.

The Schoolhouse Press has a EPS publication. I’ve ordered it, in the hopes that it will contain all I need. Meanwhile there’s lots on the internet, and of course I’ve got the books in which the EPS originally appeared.  Obviously I can’t get away without thinking. I’ll take careful notes of my thought processes. 

I must show you a picture of this knitting soon. 

Wordle: my starters gave me three greens and two browns — a complete anagram, and easy at that. So, three for me and also Mark, Rachel and Roger. Four for Theo, Ketki, and Thomas. Alexander was today’s outlier with five.

 

Not too bad a day. Helen came, after driving David to the airport. He’ll be back fairly soon.

 

I decided that the thing to do was to resume the “EPS in random Shetland stripes” which has been in my UFO list over there for a long, long time. The first job was finding it. Wafa has rearranged the sitting room, and pulled the television forward a bit, so it proved easy to get me to the stash cupboard. Not so easy to find what I was looking for. In my day, the sitting room was festooned with project bags. Wafa has gathered them up and filled them with stray balls of yarn where there was room to spare. We found the striped EPS in fairly good order, but I am not at all sure of the balls of yarn with it.

 

Basically, however, the yarn is from Uradale Farm on Shetland. None of the balls had retained its band, but mercifully memory supplied the name. A visit to Uradale was part of the Shetland trip I did – one of Misa Hay’s tours. I seem to have a range of yellows, browns and greens. The accents are missing, although present in the partly-knit tube. I ordered more today, and resumed knitting.

 

The random stripes are three rounds each. I think perhaps I embarked on this after knitting the Dathan haps. For those, the rows are either two or four or six rows each, so you have to choose a size as well as a random colour for each stripe. I found it agonizing, and I am pretty sure that that’s why I have settled for three-round stripes here. Now I hope I can find the four precious copies of Knitter’s magazine in which Meg deconstructs the EPS.

Wordle: It looked for quite a while today as if this might, at last, be my dream-day in which we all score the same: Thomas, Alexander, Ketki, Rachel, Theo and I all scored four. Roger, alas, spoiled it with a five, and Mark hasn’t been heard from. My starters provided me with a brown vowel each. It was very hard – as always, in similar situations – to think of any qualifying word, because the starters have eliminated so many good consonants.  When I got one, line three, it gave me three greens in positions two, three and four. It wasn’t too difficult to get from there to the answer.

 

Blogger has suddenly stopped delivering new comments to my email outbox. Now that I know, I can at least read them on the blog.

 

Thank you for your help with my pursuit of Norah Gaughan’s striped cardigan. It’s not her Olivia Bell pattern I’m after. I don’t care for that one. Tricky shape, un-alluring stripes. I want the one Norah herself is wearing, both on her Ravelry page and on a page somewhere in the Brooklyn Tweed website, as she proudly introduces Norah Bell. And I think, from your comment yesterday, Annie, that I’m not going to find it. I think the only thing to do would be to devise a cardigan for myself (presumably one could put together pieces from the big Vogue Knitting Book) and stripe it. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to think.

 No knitting. I had a bath (hard work). Helen came, and also a woman from the agency Wafa works for, to see how we’re getting on.

 I’ve started reading the new Richard Osman book. I’m having a bit of trouble keeping the characters straight.

 Here is a picture of Paradox having a nap in her new home:

I think you would agree that that is a picture of a happy cat.

 

Wordle: My second starter gave me three greens together in the middle of the word. My heart lept up. But line three, although it added a fourth green at the end of the word, was wrong. And so was line four. So I crept home with a five. Alexander and Ketki joined me at that undistinguished level. The fours were Rachel and Thomas. Roger, Theo, and Mark were today’s stars with three.

 The longest of days, literally. I’m exhausted and have retreated to writing with the iPad. No knitting, either. The picture of that happy, relocated cat will have to wait a day.

 One of you has suggested writing to Brooklyn Tweed about that picture of Norah Gaughan in a covetable striped cardigan. I’ll do that this evening. I am desperate for something at least semi-mindless.

  Helen and David came to lunch.  Both were in good form. Wafa did us proud. 

  We baked the sourdough we were working on all day yesterday. Very successful.

  Wordle: I surprised myself with a three. I keep a record of each day’s word and its score. Like many Wordlers, I find I can’t remember the day’s answer ten minutes later. Today, the iPad spelling checker disapproved of it. Mark, Ketki and Roger shared my score. Roger added a note to say that WordleBot regarded his success as mostly skill, not luck. Alexander, Thomas and Rachel were the fours. Poor Theo needed five.

 

It’s a bit brighter out there. Wafa and I have been making another batch of sourdough, for baking tomorrow. She rightly points out that we can’t go on like this. It’s not hard, nor particularly demanding, but you do have to bear it in mind and stick around and apply some action or other to it from time to time. We could bake a larger batch next time, and freeze some of it.

 

I had a pleasant zoom meeting with my sister this morning. We didn’t manage to solve the problems of the world – the clouds continue to darken. I have been thinking of buying a new laptop computer. She says that they were better-built ten years ago. The only fault with my present one is that it takes forever to load.

 

I have also been thinking quite a lot about Norah Gaughan’s striped cardigan. The website was behaving better this morning, and I think I have established that it is not a Gaughan pattern in the Brooklyn Tweed  repertoire. She probably regards it as too easy to write down. And I could probably reconstruct it, if I made the effort. But I don’t want effort, I want ease, this time of year.

Here's the promised great-grandchild, Lizzie and Dan's son Lennie, with his father, shortly after birth:

And here he is with his shawl:

Wordle: Ketki and Alexander and I got four. Three for Thomas and his Aunt Rachel and Mark  A brilliant two for Theo. And although I saw Roger this morning, during the Zoom session with my sister, I don’t seem to have persuaded him to do Wordle early in the day. 

 

Perhaps a slightly more purposeful day. Let’s see if I can show you a picture:

 

The sourdough was a success. And since Wafa actually eats bread (unlike me) we can go on refining our technique. And since posting the picture was a success, too, I can go on to show you the new great-grandson tomorrow, and Paradox in retirement.

 More wet, grey weather. Since I can’t get out anyway, it doesn’t much matter, but sunshine is cheerful. 

 No knitting, but much thinking. I have been mentally exploring stripes. They are immensely cheering in the grey months. A Dathan pullover  ( Kate Davies)? Unfortunately I once saw someone wearing one at a yarn festival somewhere, and it wouldn’t stay on her shoulder. There’s a good random-striped scarf on Ravelry called Stripes Please. And just now I had a message from Brooklyn Tweed – I always click on them. Most frustrating. The message was about Norah Gaughan, an absolute fave. There was a picture of (presumably) her wearing a striped cardigan which was exactly what I had been groping towards all day. Unfortunately there was something wrong with the website, and when I approached Brooklyn Tweed the normal way, there was no sign of Norah or the cardigan. Can anyone help?

Wordle:I got four — better than yesterday’s failure, anyway. Mark and Ketki joined me there. Roger and Theo outshone all others with threes. Alexander, Thomas and Rachel all needed five. 

 

 

 And yet another such day. Wafa and I have been making sourdough — it should be ready for the oven tomorrow morning. I am not very happy about it. No knitting. A certain amount of speculative thot on that subject. I haven’t figured out how to get in that cupboard to my stash. Helen’s husband David is here for a long weekend, nearly a week long. They stopped in on their way back from the airport.

  Wordle: I failed. And it was less than transparently easy to the others.  Threes for Alexander and his son Thomas. Fours for Mark and Rachel. Fives for Theo and Ketki. Silence from Roger. 

 A day much like those which have preceded it, including greyness and rain and non-achievement on my part. I need a plan, I think. Lots went on this morning. Helen and a — promising, as it proved — plumber were here discussing the Downstairs Lavatory. C. came. My holy friend came and we read another chapter  of the Epistle of St James. The First Epistle, if there are more than one.

  That’s about it. No knitting again. I did some feeble swatching towards a Fisherman’s Rib scarf. I need to explore the stash cupboard myself and it’s difficult to see how that can be done, given my feebleness and clumsiness. It involves walking behind the television set to reach its door.

  Kate Davies published another good colour essay this morning, about apples. It’ll be in the new book, presumably.

  Wordle: tougher, today. Four of us — fully half the party — scored five: Thomas and Theo and Roger and I. The fours were Mark and Ketki and Rachel. Alexander dazzled us all with a three.

 Another day of non-achievement, and of non-knitting. Helen came to lunch. Although Wafa and I fed her principally on a frozen risotto, we also made various tasty side dishes which pretty well occupied our morning.

  Helen has re-consecrated herself to the problem of the Downstairs Lavatory.  A plumber is coming early tomorrow.

  I’m enjoying The Remains of the Day, or at least reading it with interest and attention. It’s darkening towards the end.

 Wordle: my first starter yielded three greens this morning. I didn’t type in the second. I went full-tilt for a serious entry, hoping of course to score two. No luck. That attempt did yield another green —I scored three, in the end. Alexander, Ketki, Thomas and Theo were the other threes. Rachel and Mark both got two. Roger needed four.

 So,  what happened? Grey and cold again. Archie came round between shifts again and we gave him lunch. A plumber came to address in some respect the problem of the Downstairs Lavatory. He spoke to Helen on the telephone and went away. (The DL is opposite Wafa’s room. She is trudging along as necessary to the real bathroom, a long way away.)

  Again, no knitting. I made a weak attempt to start a fisherman’s rib scarf. It is possible to knit that with knit stitches only — that’s what I’m aiming at. 

  If all has gone well, Helen should be back in Edinburgh by now (after her yoga retreat). I should see her tomorrow.

  Kate Davies is sending us essays about colour — they will be in the new book. They’re good. 

  Wafa was watching “The Remains of the Day” on television last night. I think I’ve seen ii.  I’ve certainly read it — it’s here in my Kindle. I think I didn’t think much of it. I’ve started reading it again. I don’t remember it at all. I suspect it’s rather good.

  Wordle: we six Europeans were spilt 50-50 today on threes and fours. I was one of the threes. Roger has logged in with a three, but we haven’t (uncharacteristically) heard from Theo so don’t yet know whether perfect symmetry has been preserved.

 I think I am making a bit of progress with the should-be-simple problem of how to post pictures. But I haven’t completely cracked it yet, and am ready to abandon it for today.

 

The weather has calmed. The sun is shining. It’s cold.

 

I’m still a donkey suspended between two carrots when it comes to knitting. I have succeeded in finding the Glenan pattern in my Ravelry library, and could knit from it there as I have been doing with the Argyle vest. I’d rather have the book, which is not where it should be.

 

Kate Davies released a few more of her Advent Calendars yesterday. I decided to indulge, but they vanished in a twinkling and I have missed my chance. 

Wordle: Another toughie. I scored five, and was joined there by Ketki and Mark. Poor Rachel needed six. That’s half of us. The other half did better. Thomas and Roger scored three, Alexander and Theo, four. 

 Tomorrow I will go back to that computer and figure out how to show you those pictures. It must be easy. Tomorrow I will decide where knitting is to go next, and set out on that path. Today we made kimchi.

Perhaps for the last time. It’s hard work. Wafa was indispensable, of course, and very efficient. The kitchen is not covered with gochugaru sauce from one end to the other when Wafa has finshed making kimchi.  I’ve tried various store-boughten kimchies — some are better than others, but none approaches homemade, assuming it works. There’s still time for it to go wrong and grow unpleasant mould instead of fermenting productively. I’ll keep you posted.

I use Brad Leone’s recipe as recovered from his Youtube video. I omit the oyster, and I cut the Napa cabbage into large chunks instead of salting it leaf by leaf. There are lots of kimchi recipes out there. It’s easy to pick and choose.

Now I’m tired. The weather has calmed down a bit, but is still unpleasant.

Wordle: for a while it looked as if I was to be the class dunce again, with my score of five. But Theo joined me there at midday. Threes and fours elsewhere —  three for Roger and Mark, fours for everybody else.

 Well, for sheer inactivity, today took some beating. The computer hasn’t  been turned on. I am pecking this out with one finger on the iPad. I know that Fergus’ sweater is called “Glenan” (as indeed it tells us in the sidebar). It ought to be in my Ravelry library but so far I haven’t found it. I must own the book, but so far haven’t started looking for it. I haven’t figured out how to move a picture from email to blog. I used to do that all the time. I would have thought there would be some residual muscle memory.

  Nasty weather, the edge of a storm that has done real damage further north. If Helen were here — she’s still on her Yoga retreat in Cornwall — she might be able to find out what the weather is like in Kirkmichael.

  No knitting — that’s always an ominous symptom. 

  Archie came to lunch, between shifts. We made him a chicken tray bake with chicken pieces newly delivered from Waitrose and bits and pieces already to hand. He ate it with relish — it is always very gratifying to cook for Archie.

  Wordle: Mark and Theo were today’s stars — three. The most popular score was four. That’s what I got, and Alexander, Ketki and Rachel. Five for Thomas. Silence, again, from Roger. I didn’t think much of yesterday’s word, SPLAT, but I would be hard-put to frame a reasonable complaint. 

 

Action. Here I am with my computer. I have remembered enough passwords to get started, and have even played a couple of games of Freecell.

 

Freecell, yes, but I seem to have forgotten how to show you pictures. I want to post the newest great-grandchild, Lennie, with his shawl. And also Paradox, being a happy cat in the south of England. I’ve got the pictures all right, in my mailbox, but…

 

I’ll work on it.

 

I’ve had a good day, despite the storm. Alexander and Ketki came, as did the GP I have known for many years. I think we made a bit of progress on various fronts. I’ve got something in my lungs called bronchiectasis. It is a word they have recently sprung on me.

 

Alexander reminds me that I said at some point that the Calcutta Cup sweater I am knitting – the one I laid aside when I went to Cramond, in favour of the Argyle vest for myself -- might not fit its intended recipient, namely Helen’s son Fergus, because he seems to have broadened at the shoulder since I started on it. If that proves to be true, the next candidate would be Alexander and Ketki’s son Thomas who is many feet tall but thin as a rake. Wafa and I found the knitting and the rest of the yarn. It remains to locate the pattern. I’ll leave that for tomorrow. I’ve got the book somewhere, and failing that it could be in my Ravelry library.

 

I got a bit of Argyle vest knitting done. I am disappointed in myself at how little I have internalised the pattern after all this time. The back, since the split at the armholes, is something of a mess.

 

Thank you for your further help with winter knitting. Shandy, that Midwinter Blanket (comment yesterday) won’t do for me. I need simplicity as well as colour, so as not to overtax my 90-year-old brain. Wafa has found two interesting skeins in the stash cupboard, as well as the one Into the Whirled one. A fisherman’s rib scarf, with those three striped?

 

Wordle:  I was today’s dunce, with five. I wasn’t entirely happy with the word, either. Sour grapes? Roger and Thomas scored brilliant twos. The threes were Alexander, Mark, and Rachel. Four for Ketki and Theo.

 

Now, can I remember how to save and post this?

 Still low, me and the weather both. It was sort of gratifying to see on today’s news that skies were no brighter in Tel Aviv. Thank you very much for your gloom-relieving knitting suggestions. I may return to them, and you’re absolutely right that we are reaching the time of year when colour is needed. Meanwhile I got a bit more knitting done today. No computer. No visitors.

I think Alexander and Ketki are coming tomorrow to share the doctor’s visit.

It turns out, just as I predicted yesterday, that Theo and his family are planning to nip over to celebrate Thanksgiving with their London cousins. So they could bring yarn if I ordered some for them. It’s a thought. 

Wordle: I had a hard time today. I didn’t use any Jean-words, and was unsustained, Mary Lou, by the corporate works. Five. Nobody else had much of a struggle. Two for Alexander, indeed. Three for Ketki, Mark, Theo and Thomas. Four for Rachel. Silence, again, from Roger.

I am glad to welcome your husband, Mary Jane, as an outlying member of our little group.

 Oh, dear. Grey and cold. The morning was more complicated than I expected, and I still haven’t tackled that computer. Helen looked in on her way to the station. Wafa and I tackled the making of sourdough. I was happy to accommodate her energy with this project, about which I can remember  enough to get us started. We’ve got to make a starter from scratch, however, so the actual activity was brief.

Knitting progressed. I did measure. I’m a long way from the shoulder.

“Literally”: I once had the very great pleasure of hearing a BBC announcer say, with joy in her voice, that we were about to hear of someone who had “literally dropped a clanger”. That is a somewhat out-of-date but not altogether uncommon expression meaning to do or say something awkward or embarrassing. But in this case the item was about someone who had let fall a handbell and the announcer’s joy was for her chance to use “literally” literally. 

Wordle: another three for me. I’m having a good October. My starters gave me a green vowel and two brown tiles, a vowel and a consonant. Mental struggle eventually produced a hypothesis, and it was right. WordleBot says there were two other possibilities.

Thomas and Theo were the other threes. Alexander, Ketki, Mark and Rachel had fours. No news from Roger yet.

 It has been another low day, both physically and spiritually. It  has also been grey and dull (and cold). These facts are almost certainly related.

However knitting has moved forward. Now that I have divided at the armholes, it seems to go faster, to such an extent that I had better measure tomorrow.

Helen came. She is going away tomorrow, all the way to Cornwall, for a yoga retreat, if I’ve got that right. Archie also came.

But no one is scheduled for tomorrow, and I hope that means I’ll get back to that computer.

An awful lot of people have been saying “decimated” recently on the radio. I still cling to the original meaning — “to eliminate one in ten.” That is the trouble with a classical education. What they usually mean these days is something much worse — “eliminated,” perhaps. Or “devastated”. I think the BBC is on my side.

Wordle: Alexander and his sister Rachel were today’s stars, with threes. Fours for me and Thomas and Mark. Fives for Roger and Ketki. Poor Theo actually failed.

My starters gave me two greens, a vowel and a consonant. Plus a brown consonant. I struggled for quite a while but finally entered a Jean-word in line three. It was a word I am particularly fond of. It almost qualified, but included one already-eliminated letter. It turned the original brown tile green, however. And I went on to the answer in the next line.

 I feel dreary. Little has been achieved. Wafa administered a bath this mornimg — it’s hard work for both of us, and probably explains the dreariness. I later instituted and contributed to the cooking of lunch. That eas something of a departure for me these days. It was a recipe for tenderstem broccoli from the current Waitrose magazine, and from it I have learned that tenderstem broccoli is not at its best in mid-October. 

C. came, and indeed helped with the cooking. Her daughter and son-in-law are selling their house in Roslin (of chapel fame). C.’s role is to look after their two very small sons (aged three and one) while the house is shewn to prospective buyers in peace and quiet. They are very lucky to have her. The house only went on the market this week and has aroused much interest. 

Knitting went well, but slowly. I attached the newly-wound ball and finished the armhole shaping for the back.

I still haven’t tackled the catalog room and my computer. I now have pictures to show you of Lennie H. in his new shawl and of Paradox Miles in the south of England somewhere, being sweet. I think she is enormously enjoying being an Only Cat. Perdita remains wary.

Wordle: I wasn’t exactly the class dunce. I scored five, but Rachel joined me there. Alexander, Mark, Ketki, and Roger were the fours. The young ‘uns won— Theo and Thomas both scored three. C.hadn’t done it yet, when I saw her this morning.

 Depressingly little achieved. The Legion of Mary visited me this morning, presumably because Visiting the Sick is one of the Corporal Works of Mercy. They were pleasant but stayed a bit too long. This afternoon I wound a skein of yarn. Ready therefore to proceed with the Argyle vest but I haven’t done it yet. Helen also came. No news. 

  Many thanks for your help with Into the Whirled. I looked up June 7, 2016, Anonymous. It was mostly useful in indicating that my interest in the yarn goes even further back. Anonymous2, The Loopy Ewe still lists  it, but adds “out of stock”. I think the only thing to do, as you suggest, would be to order from the website and have it sent to my sister, the next time she proposes to visit.

It’s more likely that younger generations would go visit each other on one side of the pond or the other. It could be done that way. Not that I need more yarn.

Wordle: it seems to have been easy today, although there’s always one out-lier. We were all threes and fours except that Mark, of all people, needed five and Roger hasn’t been heard from. I was one of the threes.

And yet another (goodish day). The dentist came and tidied me up a bit. They’ll phone in a month or so and we will discuss the mechanics of a proper visit. I think I could get down and up the stairs outside my house — but those outisde the dentist’s surgery are at least twice as many, and steeper. I keep hoping I’ll get stronger. 

  What happens to the housebound in America who need doctors or dentists or indeed podiatry?

   Knitting progresses well. I’ve divided for the underarm — much counting, and indeed a certain effort was needed to re-establish which size I’m knitting. I have made some initial progress with underarm decreases. I’m knitting from the pattern in my Ravelry library. I don’t think the printer is working. It certainly helps to be able to write notes on a pattern. 

  Wafa found a rather wonderful skein of Into the Whirled yarn in my stash cupboard. (Is nothing sacred?) Goodness, I had forgotten all about them. I don’t remember how I bought that skein nor how many others there might have been. But how did I do it? At present, the Into the Whirled website doesn’t do overseas orders, and no British yarn shop seems to stock it. Advice very welcome. 

  Wordle: it was almost USA vs GB today. Everybody on this side of the pond scored three — except, alas,  for Ketki, who needed four. The two Americans, Theo and Roger, both scored four. 

Yesterday’s word was KNELT. I disapproved because Wordle doesn’t usually have plurals or past tenses as winners, although they will be accepted if you enter them.

   

 Another goodish day. I didn’t tackle the computer, and I feel the lack of any any serious or semi- serious reading. On the other hand, knitting progressed well. I didn’t measure, but I’m halfway through a pattern repeat — a very good point at which to measure before I plunge in tomorrow. 

The surgeon phoned. We have decided not to operate (to replace my hip) but if pain/discomfort get worse, I have a phone number. It is not so much my age that disinclines him to operate as the state of my lungs. I have a lung appt soon.

We learned one interesting medical tidbit: patients’ sensations of pain and/or discomfort, in such cases, don’t particularly relate to the state of decrepitude shewn on the xray or scan. 

I broke one of my few remaining teeth while eating spinach — (!) — the other day. Helen got me an appt which will bring a dentist to the house tomorrow. The actual dentist’s office is very near, but up a seriously steep flight of steps from pavement to front door. 

We also have an appt which will bring my GP here one day next week. It will be good to have an overview of all the various things wrong with me.

Wordle: I wasn’t impressed with today’s word. I’ll tell you why tomorrow, if I remember. I scored five. I was baffled by my situation after the starters — three browns, two consonants and a vowel. After a substantial period of bafflement, I resorted to Jean-words (=couldn’t be right) for lines three and four.

My fellow-fives were Theo and Alexander. Six for Rachel. Four for Mark and Ketki. Today’s stars were Roger and Thomas — three each. 

 Perhaps i was slightly more vigorous today. Shall I make it tomorrow’s goal to reach the Catalog Room, which contains my computer, and see if I can’t activate it and show you some pictures?  I also have a telephone appt tomorrow to talk about arthroplasty, presumably with someone who knows what the word means. (I’ve looked it up. I do too.)

  Knitting went well. I finished that horrible round, and have whizzed through three more. It is not much slower than ribbing, in the rounds where it is possible to keep track of left-twist, right-twist in your head. And alternate rounds are just knit and purl, mostly knit. I’ll measure again tomorrow.

  There was an article in the Telegraph yesterday about making some spare cash by knitting. You were to price your efforts fairly, it said, by paying yourself the legal minimum wage for your time. I didn’t read much further. Can’t be done. The people who make money from their knitting are designers (and then, not much) and entrepreneurs, if that’s the word, who organise a stable of  knitters — old ladies like me — who are happy to knit for far less than the minimum wage.

Wordle: another quick one, but I scored only four. Thomas, Roger and Mark joined me there. Five for Alexander and Rachel. Six for Theo. Silence from Ketki which is most unusual. 

 Another such day. I walked a bit, bedroom to sitting room, instead of travelling by wheelchair. That was encouraging. However I don’t think there’s anything exercise can do. It’s a question I must pursue in future medical appointments, several of which loom.

 I’ve knit a bit more. I’m bogged down in another difficult round — lots of crosses, perversely arranged. I measured, and I’m  doing well. Kate Davies, who models the finished garment herself, is substantially shorter than I am, and she is wearing the vest short, so I can knit on comfortably for a couple of inches. 

We are all worrying about the Middle East. Wafa is a Yemini, actually born in Saudi  Arabia. I hope eventually to learn the whole story. David Remnick in the New Yorker is first rate. 

Wordle: another quick three for me. Theo and Roger, Rachel and Mark all joined me there. The others, who don’t deserve to be named, all scored four. I guess it was an easy one.

 And virtually nothing, again today. I got a bit further on with the knitting. Helen came, and bore off — among other things — Lennie’s shawl which she will post to him. I put in an order to Waitrose. Wafa disapproved of the prices but so far, fighting it out gram by gram, Waitrose comes out pretty well. Wafa will never save me enough money to pay for her presence, but her economical ways will achieve a lot.

 Perdita is much calmer, and spends a lot of time on my lap. I haven’t succeeded in coaxing her into bed. She sleeps in the kitchen, halfway between us.  

 The radio has been talking about “Don’t Look Now”, a grand old film. I’ve seen lots of movies in my long life, but find that I remember that one — including individual shots, such as the headmaster’s door — with unusual vividness. Perhaps we could contrive to see it again. Better, somehow, than sitting about in complete idleness.

  Wordle: my starter words, so often useless, pretty well did the job for me today. I scored a quick and easy three. Roger joined me there. Thomas and Ketki had four. Rachel, Alexander, and Theo needed five. Mark was today’s dunce. He got stuck on grn, grn, grn, ???, ??? and only just scraped home with a six. He added a note to say that four of his six words were political.

 Helen is safely home from Kirkmichael, where there was epic rain. She’ll come tomorrow and tell us about it. We’ve had a grey day here, with lots of rain, but not quite epic.

  Knitting has been advanced but slightly. I’m currently toiling around a round that involves six twists (12 stitches) for every 18 stitches of the pattern repeat, and it’s slow work.

  Mary Lou, when you grumble about the iPad correcting your spelling, do you mean the way it leaps in to make preposterous suggestions, overriding one’s blameless prose? I have always thought that I could override that feature if I understood the iPad better. We have ordered a stand for it, and are ready  to think of going on to a keyboard — but will I have to contend with this nuisance forever? You should see what it tried to suggest for “keyboard”. 

  Wordle: the results make it seem like a relatively easy one, but I found it a stinker. My starters gave me three brown vowels. Three! I gave up and entered a Jean-word for line three — those three vowels, in new positions, but I re-used a consonant. That produced nothing major — no new letters, no greens — but from it I was able to guess the answer. So, four for me.

  Thomas, Alexander, Rachel, and Roger were fellow fours. Five for Mark and Ketki. Theo posted a brilliant three in what must have been for him the middle of the night.

 I seem to be getting less and less done, but all is well. Helen stopped by on her way to Kirkmichael where she will continue to struggle with the driveway-and-ditch problem. There are some signs of progress on that one. Meanwhile the Downstairs Lavatory problem is in complete abeyance  here. Someone is booked to do something about it at the end of NEXT month. They have done a report. Insurance has agreed to pay. But Helen is afraid that they will spin on their heel, the day they actually arrive, and say that it is impossible 

Fortunately the other bathroom is perfectly adequate for our needs.

I was pleased by the outcome of yesterday’s by-election. Mrs Sturgeon recently extended the franchise to everyone  over 16 resident in Scotland. That includes me. I can’t vote in Westminster elections. I have actually voted only once. I chose Labour. They are in favour of the union, as am I, and have a good, new leader, another handsome youngish man with a subcontinental background. There are so many at the head of British political parties these days that it gets confusing. 

Wordle: another easy one, apparently. Four for me and Roger. Five for Alexander. Three for Theo, Rachel and Mark. Ketki and Thomas were the brilliant best, with twos.

 Again,  a day with some forward movement. Wafa and I got the shawl blocked. Helen has taken a picture of it. I’ll include it if I can. I am still picking out this blog with one finger on the iPad. Perhaps tomorrow’s achievement could be to get  the computer going again. The computer room is a long way away.

  And I resumed knitting the Argyll vest. A round and a half — better than nothing.

  Helen came, and, briefly, Archie. Also my religious friend. So we’ve packed a lot in. 

  Wordle: it was an easy one today, but I fell into the Wordle trap. My hard-won entry for line three gave me only four greens. Line four didn’t change things. So five for me. Rachel was another five, with the same pattern. The fours were Mark, Thomas, and Alexander. Theo was another five. He had my pattern in line three. Perhaps he thought of the possibilities and went off to test them in line four, as Alexander recommends.  Roger took six, with a different pattern. And Ketki scored three.

 Wet, grey, depressing. The morning was a series of events, and no knitting got done. C.  came and told me about Palermo, where she clearly had a grand time. She enjoyed Cooking with the Duchess, who seems to remember me and Archie vividly. Her husband the Duke, Lampedusa’s adopted son,  the model for Tancred in Il Gattopardo, died in May of this year. He was almost as old as I am. I am working on a message, so far only in my head, to send her. I will write in Italian, unnecessarily, as she speaks better English than I do.

And the NHS delivered a wheelchair, self-propelled, so I am mobile, at least somewhat. It’s hard work, but will be good exercise. And a holy friend came and we read a chapter of St Paul’s Letter to the Hebrews. And somehow it got to be lunchtime. 

KD is making great advances with this year’s winter book, Compass. It’s all about colour and involves an Advent calendar with little balls of her Milarrochy tweed. I am too late for that, a good thing — there are already too many little balls of yarn around here, without adding 24 more. But I’m looking forward to the book.  

Wordle: My starters gave me a green vowel and three brown consonants. I struggled mightily, rejecting many a tempting Jean-word that was wrong in one respect or another. I finally thought of an unlikely possibility, and it was right. Persevere with line three is my motto, as I said.

So, three for me, and for Mark and Rachel. Theo and Roger, father and son, scored four. Thomas and Ketki, mother and son., needed five. Alexander notched up a commendable two.

 Another day. Further forward.

I think I’ve finished Lenny’s shawl. There weren’t many loose ends, given that the skeins were 100 grams each. I knit the borders back and forth, to avoid having to create garter stitch by purling. I began by grafting the ends of the edging, and soon discovered that they were twisted. A careful unpicking took the rest of the morning knitting time.

Things went better after my nap. I sewed up the fourth border corner, and only after that attempted again to graft the edging. I don’t think it’s very elegantly done, but it can count as a success. This yarn — I’ve forgotten what it is— is called “Primavera”.I was disappointed when it arrived at how dark it was, but darkness now helps conceal clumsiness.

Tomorrow we will have to address the question of blocking. 

Helen is safely home, and very welcome. C. Is back too, and will be here tomorrow to tell me how she got on “Cooking with the Duchess”.

I am alarmed to realise how far I have declined since I last lived in this dear house. Wafa and Perdita and I are, however, getting on well.

Wordle: Another day when fours predominate: me and Alexander and Ketki and Theo and Roger. Thomas and Mark slid home with threes, Rachel needed five.

 Still no knitting, but continued recovery. We got the shawl out and found darning needle and scissors. Ready to start. Archie came by, between assignments — he supports autistic people in the community. The cat continues to relax and to sit on my lap. She even purrs. Archie (who loves her) said that she will continue to be attached to Wafa who feeds her.  Wafa continues to try to slim her down somewhat. I plead for my cat and sometimes secure another half-sachet for her.

I haven’t even read  (still Richard Cobb in Tunbridge Wells) but I feel that that, too, is drawing closer.

Much restorative sleep. Restorative , I hope.

Wordle: a tricky one, I thought, but most of us got four, including me. Rachel distinguished herself with a three. There was uncharacteristic trouble in DC, however. Roger scored five, and Theo failed.

 Another good day. Still no knitting, but I think I am recovering my strength and hope to resume tomorrow. I had a bath, using a clever get-in-and-out-of-the-tub gadget that the Council gave us. The sun shone. A neighbour came around who wants to buy my house when I die or leave for other reasons. She already has one but wants to stay in Drummond Place and downsize a bit. She had some useful advice about wheelchairs.

Perdita is transferring her affections to Wafa who feeds her. I think she is relaxing a bit, too.

Wordle: we came close today to the day I always want, when we all score the same. But Thomas spoiled it with a five. The rest of us had fours.

Thank you for your help with Friday’s word. I think the answer is that I was indeed spelling ALURE wrong, but there is another word unknown to us all which is spelled like that and which Wordle accepted. The Bot wasn’t so wrong after all.