Helen and I got around the garden again. I think we’ve reached the point where it can be said to be a good week. James and Cathy’s younger daughter Kirsty is here for a bit of Festival Fringe – I will walk with her tomorrow.

 

Today’s knitting time has been devoted, pretty well entirely, to trying on the new Evendoon – which I completely forgot to photograph. As far as we could tell, everything is all right. I spent a tedious hour getting the stitches back on the needle, and am forging ahead. The moment of separating off the sleeve stitches (I’m knitting top-down) is not far off.

 

I have heard from Misa Hay that the new issue of Shetland Wool Adventure is ready for dispatch. What I can’t remember is whether I ordered and paid for it, or just noted it as something I would like to have. Time will tell if I just sit tight.

 

Cats: thank you for your comments. I can assure you that unplanned motherhood is rare among the cats of the Second New Town, and perfectly ordinary kittens sell for big bucks on Gumtree. I went to a shelter once – why on earth? – and there were no kittens there. There is a belief to which I tend to subscribe – I am sure it would be fiercely denied by our vet – that the personality of a cat who has had a litter of kittens is less radically affected by spaying. Certainly poor Perdita (who has never known motherhood) is a much reduced creature since her operation. Although we still love her the best.

 

Wordle: Four for Alexander and Thomas. Both of them lept straight from one coloured tile to the right answer. Ketki and I both needed five, and Mark required all six. Rachel in London, harassed no doubt by the need to pack for a holiday in France, reached the same point I did on line three: two greens at the beginning of the word and one at the end. It defeated her.

 Another good day, with what passes for excitement in these parts. Helen carried poor Paradox off for her injection early this morning, and tried, unsuccessfully, to discuss kittens with the vet. She – the vet -- was implacably opposed for a wide range of reasons, from the diseases you (or, rather, your cat) might get from a stud selected on-line to the undesirability of selling kittens to strangers who might mistreat them, via the notion that Paradox (at five) was too old for a first litter.  She has to have a second injection in three weeks’ time before she is fully covered for whatever it is. We can think about it.

 

Then we had a very nice time having coffee in our neighbours’ garden, talking about Kirkmichael with which they are also associated.

 

Knitting: I am currently occupied with threading the stitches of the second Evendoon onto some shiny ribbon – I think it was you who but me on to that, Mary Lou. It is a slowish task which I must finish this evening. Then it will be ready to be tried on when Helen comes for our walk tomorrow.

 

Wordle: I thought it was a somewhat tricky word today, but our scores were completely ordinary. Alexander and his son Thomas scored three; Mark and I needed four; and Ketki five. I have started keeping a list of the answers, day by day, as we (and others) find that it is often very hard to remember them, even the next day.

 

 

Another good day – the third in succession on which I have walked all the way around the garden. I don’t feel I’m accomplishing anything with all this movement, but it’s better than not moving. Tomorrow things will get exciting. Helen will come early and carry Paradox off to have an expensive and unnecessary injection, so that we can take her to a stud and get some kittens. This is Helen being energetic, but it would certainly be nice to have kittens. I could easily sell them and earn enough to pay for the stud, except that I doubt if I could bear to sell kittens.

 

Then we will go and have coffee in the garden with a neighbour.

 

The knitting is also moving forward nicely. One more day – or maybe even this evening – and I will have reached the point where the pattern suggests trying it on. We’ll do that (and I’ll take a picture then). I am beginning to think I might have enough yarn for the whole thing, except for the white stripes. 

(image from the Kate Davies website)

But when my single ball of white runs out, I do have a large ball of her Ooskit yarn, probably in the middle of the three natural shades. I used it as the main colour of my recent Lilias Day instead of the white prescribed. How would that look? One can but try and see.

 

Wordle: I got it in three today, thereby restoring some self-esteem after yesterday’s disaster. An easy three, as well. The starter words produced two greens and two browns. All too often in that situation I sit there for long periods struggling titanically to think of any word which fulfils the requirements, or even any word which would fulfil some of them. Today it was easy to think of one – and it was right! Mark and Alexander also scored three, Thomas four, Ketki five.

 

 

Another good day. Garden circumnavigated, exercises done, knitting progressed. I am increasing eight stitches every other round; their number is beginning to make itself felt. We’d better have a picture soon.

 

Wordle is a bummer today. I failed. Everybody else struggled. Ketki and Mark and Alexander needed six, Thomas five.

 

Another good day, weather-wise and otherwise-wise. Helen is safely here, very glad to be back. Greece was too hot. We walked all the way around the garden – I haven’t done that for a while. The secret is just to keep walking and talking.

 

The new knitting continues to go well. Thank you for your help with it. I turn out to be using a 3.75 needle, not far off the 4 suggested. (Lynda, comment yesterday) I continue to be satisfied with the fabric, and gauge is at least in the right ballpark. It remains to be seen, of course, whether I have chosen to knit the right size. If I kept notes from my previous knitting of the pattern, I can’t find them. Helen says she found the fit particularly good.

 

It’s knit top-down. At the present – and for a while to come – I am knitting faux raglan seams upside down The pattern suggests a try-on when the raglan increases are complete. I think that would be a good idea, however tedious. I am cheerfully prepared to start over, but I think I might, in that case, treat myself to some new yarn if necessary. The yarn I am knitting with is all divided up into stripes. Frogging might be more trouble than it’s worth. We’ll see.

 

The raglan increases are done with a make-one-right and make-one-left. KD gives instructions, and a reference to a helpful website, but all I needed was the mnemonic I learned in a Craftsy class years ago. Could it have been Stephen West himself? Certainly it involved shawl-knitting.

                   I’ll be right back.

                   I left the front door open.

Very useful.

 

Wordle: I was top of the class today, with Ketki: three. My starter words yielded a green vowel, and three brown tiles. There was nothing for it but to face up to anagram-solving and eventually I got it. The boys tended to get the final letters in green early on, which would leave a lot of options. Mark and Alexander both scored uncharacteristic fives. Thomas had a four.

 

C. is the most conscientious tester I know – largely to protect me. This morning, for the first time after all these months, she tested positive. So, no walk, and kitten-visiting this week is in some doubt. She has no symptoms.

 

I did my exercises faithfully, and I finished the legwarmers. I instantly cast on a replacement Evendoon for Helen from my abundant Schehallion stash. So far, delightful. There’s nothing to beat stripes. And the fact that I’m knitting from stash enhances the experience. Kate Davies doesn’t even suggest needle sizes. Has that always been the case? How did I know what size to use for Lilias Day? Certainly not by swatching. I found an appropriate-seeming needle and all is well so far – the experience is very pleasant, the fabric likewise. Eventually I’ll measure and see what gauge I’m getting. It’s knit top-down, with the neck ribbing added later. So far, therefore, it’s rolling like mad.

 

I wonder why KD has never been on Fruity Knitting?

 

Wordle: I’m back in my usual bottom-of-the-class position. Thomas’s starter word gave him four greens, so he got it in two. Mark and Alexander and Ketki needed three; four for me. But my little winning streak is lengthening, and I am approaching the point where my historic accumulation of fours will outstrip my fives. That is my ambition at the moment.

 

I’m reading Le Carre’s “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy”. I must have read it at some point in the past, long ago, but I’ve forgotten most of it. It’s terribly good.

 

 

 I didn’t get out today – a pity, because it looked like a nice one.  (I did my exercises, though.) I hope to walk with C. tomorrow. And Helen will be back from her family holiday in Greece tomorrow, airports permitting. I’ll see her on Monday, insh’Allah. She says it’s very hot in Greece.

 

My next project, which with luck will be a quick one, will be to replace Helen’s ruined Evendoon using, as far as possible, my stash of leftover Schehallion. Then Calcutta Cup 2022 – with even more luck, I will have embarked on it while 2022 is still here.

 

I watched Fruity Knitting. It was a rather uninspiring issue, I thought, concentrating on a Rowan designer named Georgia Farrell. She recommended a small Japanese book called A Dictionary of Colour Combinations. Andrea pounced on it in delight, and got one for herself, and so did I. It is nothing but that: colour combinations. I’ll have to do more Fair Isle, to make good use of it. Might be interesting.

 

Wordle: an interesting day. My two starter words yielded nothing by one green vowel. I gave up and entered a Jean-word in line three: it  re-used an eliminated letter. But it was useful, as Jean-words often are– it gave me another green, and a brown, and I got it from there. Alexander and Mark also did it in four. Thomas, most uncharacteristically, needed five (so he’s the class dunce today). Ketki is the star of the show, with three.

 

Both sets of my grandparents grew vegetables. My mother’s father effectively had a smallholding, cow and chickens and all. I remember the food as dull. A child’s palate? Dull cooking with overdone vegetables? I suspect both were involved.

 I’m sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t entirely well, and spent most of it in bed. I’m pleased to say that I feel much better today – exercises done, garden walked in with C. Her news is good, too. Christina and Manaba have both finished their Covid and are testing clear. Christina had an actual, physical ante-natal appt today and all is well. There is less than a month to go.

 

And I am promised a visit to the kittens next week!

 

I’m sorry to say that the legwarmers still aren’t finished. It’s no use telling you that the final ribbing is easy and pleasant – it’s still got to be done. I’ve now done more than half of it, and have great hopes for tomorrow.

 

Vegetables: Unknown (comment Wednesday): You do well to remind me of new potatoes. I should rejoice at what I can grow instead of fretting about corn and globe artichokes which are beyond my reach. New potatoes can be grown in canvas bags on the doorstep. I'll try again next year. I had some in '18 but they were stolen.

And I share your experience, of things not tasting as good as they used to. My father had a Victory Garden during the war in which, among other things, he grew snow peas, in those days not to be had in supermarkets. They were beyond delicious. When I started growing vegetables in Kirkmichael, that was the first thing I went for. I tried year after year. He sent me seeds from America. I tried every variety in the catalogues. The crops were successful, but nothing tasted remotely like those Detroit peas.

 

Wordle: I did it yesterday, so my little streak is unbroken. I found it very difficult today – my starter words yielded four brown tiles, two vowels and two consonants. The consonants were a pair which often appear together. I wasted time and guesses on the assumption that that was true here. It isn’t. I finally got it with a skin-of-my-teeth five. Mark scored two again, blast him; Thomas and his father Alexander 3; Ketki four. I am back in my familiar position of class dunce.

 

 

 

I got my next month’s copy of Delicious magazine today. There on the cover is a cob of corn in camicia as I think we might say in Italian. Not to be had from the supermarket which will deliver here tomorrow. They do occasionally turn up, and carry the faintest suggestion of the real taste. The ones that are sold already stripped bare aren’t worth buying. In the US, of course, one eschews supermarkets and buys from the farmer’s gate, preferably late in the day in the hopes that he has made a second picking. Ideally one grows one’s own, uphill from the kitchen door, and gets the water boiling before one goes out to pick.

 

When I went to CT for my nephew Theo’s wonderful wedding, I saw in my sister’s rubbish the night I arrived the husks of the corn they had eaten the night before. (What was I doing, looking in the rubbish? Helping with the washing-up? Most unlike me.) That’s the closest I am likely to get in later life.

 

Delicious magazine went on to globe artichokes, also not to be had at the local Waitrose. There’s more hope there, and they don’t suffer quite so much from travel. That was an exquisite luxury we were occasionally served in my childhood. Neither artichokes or corn asks for anything more than melted butter – with a drop or two of Tobasco if you must.

 

Then Delicious proceeded to tomatoes. Those, of course, I can get in abundance, but none of them taste like summer. When Archie and I went to Italy in October, ’18, we started in Naples before proceeding south to Reggio Calabria to see the Riace bronzes. (valgono un viaggio). I had a Salad Caprese on successive evenings in different restaurants. Surely, in October, there are still some late tomatoes on the slopes of Vesuvius? The ones I was served were as tough and tasteless as anything in Edinburgh. Perhaps the Italians regard them as a delicacy and have them flown in.

 

So I am feeling pretty sorry for myself.

 

Well, I did it. The patterned part of the second legwarmer is done, subsequent stripes and final decrease round dealt with – only the final ribbing remains. And finishing, of course, as always. The pleasure, as mentioned yesterday, of finishing something I wasn’t enjoying, is immeasurable. Next, I think, confecting an Evendoon stripey pullover for Helen from leftover Shiehallion yarn of which I seem to have a lot. While thinking about Fergus’ 2022 Calcutta Cup whatever. We’d better lose next year. When I embarked on this project, Scotland’s Calcutta Cup wins were in the hen’s teeth category for frequency. Not so, of late.

 

Not much news otherwise, and nothing else in the way of achievement.

 

Wordle: I don’t want to hobble back to the kitchen to get my iPad, so we’ll have to hope this is right: three for Mark and Thomas (clever boys), four for me and Ketki, six for poor Alexander. It was one of those Wordle specials, of course, where he had everything except the first letter. Queer Joe failed altogether at that hurdle; easily done. So my winning streak, now extended to a pitiful 20, is the longest it has ever been.

 

All well – and the best news is that I have finished the blue-on-indistinguishable-blue band on the second legwarmer. There are four more two-colour rounds to go, with colours which can easily be distinguished and they are rounds which are pretty easy anyway. There’s a bit more knitting to do after that, and of course the final ribbing, but I can switch back to ordinary dp’s and enjoy myself.  Laying something aside for “a while”, especially when it’s something you’re not entirely enjoying the knitting of, is very dangerous, as we all know and I feel particularly delighted to have reached this stage.

 

C. came. We got to the garden, although not very far within. She doesn’t have any more news from Christina and Manaba but at least the weekend is over and help will be somewhat easier to get if needed. Indeed some friend-or-neighbour took wee Hamish to nursery this morning.

 

I forgot to show you this picture yesterday, the first open eyes:

 

I am told that the litter consists of three girls and a boy. This is one of the girls. She will clearly grow up to be a formidable cat. That's Christina's pregnant tummy she's sitting on. 

 

Wordle: four today for me and Alexander and Mark, three for Ketki and her son Thomas. I have now equalled my longest winning streak, a paltry 20: so tomorrow is a big day.

 

Comments: in today’s post-mortem, Mark or Alexander mentioned that he had rejected the idea of BLOKE as too British. I was particularly glad to hear that you had tried it, Frequent Frogger. (Not that it was right.) I keep trying to tell them that the NYT may sometimes offer words that seem to us to be too American, but they won’t exclude anything for being too British. Such as MIDGE. And Beth, it is interesting, if distressing, to hear how common they are in Canada.

 

Janet in Seattle: I’ve scored a hole-in-one, like your mother. It’s no fun. A two is what I dream of.

 

Ron in Mexico: It is always good to hear from you. I’m glad to hear that you use my starter words (TRAIN and HOUSE). You certainly don’t need to give me credit on the rare days when they prove to be of use.

 

C. came to see me, but again failed to get me out. I’m all right, just droopy. Both Christina and Manaba are ill with Covid – not desperately ill, but far from symptomless. They have no other backup but C., who doesn’t dare to pitch in and risk getting it herself.

 

Thank you for your Wordle comments. We over here often grumble that Wordle words are too American, although at the moment I can’t think of an example. I have no memory of MIDGEs from my American youth (nor does Ketki) and I wondered how the word would strike American ears. Perhaps significantly, all the Scottish residents in my little Wordle group got it in four yesterday, but Mark, an Englishman who lives in Birmingham, needed five. Today was one of those Wordle specials where those who had the last four letters of the word as green tiles had a wide choice of letters to start it off with. I needed five, Alexander four, and we were lucky. The others approached from a different direction; they had the initial letter in hand for the final struggle. Mark, blast him, got it in two.

 

I knit heroically on. Today was a day when my determination to knit three rounds at least really paid off. I so easily might not have done any, and now I am within the last ten rounds, counting down to the finish line. I might do another round or two this evening, but I doubt it.

 

I have been reading PD James’ Adam Dalgleish books backwards from the most recent. Some of them I have read in the past, I think, but by no means all. She’s good. And it is wonderful to watch the 21^st century scrolling backwards. Remember typewriters?

 

 

 

 

Wordle: I would be very grateful if American readers would tell me, in comments below, what they think of today’s word. Ketki and Alexander and their son Thomas and I got it in four, Mark needed five. But that’s not the point. What do you think of the word?

 

The weather has been somewhat heavy, and I didn’t get out except to garden with Micaela on the front step. C. came by later and was persuaded not to walk. But she is coming again tomorrow, and threatens to be firmer with me. Manaba and Christina (the parents of the kittens, and soon to be parents of their own second child) have both tested positive for Covid, and C. is beside herself with anxiety as stillbirth is not unknown as a by-product of Covid. Pregnancy, however, entitles one to direct access to medical professionals. A midwife is phoning Christina daily and asking sharp questions. C. remains very bitter against her friend who went to the recent wedding and hugged everybody, knowing she had tested positive.

 

And, oh yes, knitting. I have progressed as usual, and am now on the threshold of the final band which employs the two indistinguishable blues. And what I have to persuade myself (of), is that it doesn’t matter.  I could do it all with one colour – the background colour remains throughout a peaceful Shetland grey.  But I think the eye may discern the change, and that it may make the overall effect more lively. It’s a seven-round band, 2-3-2 for the blues. Peering at the current legwarmer, I’m not altogether sure that the two such bands I have knitted already don’t reverse the colours. And it doesn’t matter.

 

 

 

 

Not much tonight – but it has been a good day.

 

I set myself, as I probably said, to do three rounds of legwarmer per day. I have always achieved more than that but it has been helpful, on the morning of a droopy day such as this one, to be able to tell myself that I can surely get around three times. The current score is 80 rounds done, 96 the target. We’re getting there. One of the dread indistinguishable-blue-on-indistinguishable-blue bands comes next, and then it’s over.

 

Wordle: I was the best, in our little group. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. I may – rarely if so – have been tied for best, but today I was there alone. I did it in three. The others were four and even five. Mary Lou, I was sorry to hear of your struggle. Was that the day when TRITE was the answer, and TRIBE, TRICE, TRIPE, and TRIKE among the other possibilities?

 

Little to report. Helen came to see me, and we walked for a while along the pavement chatting to neighbours. She and Archie will be leaving tomorrow, well before the crack of dawn (even in July), for a family holiday in the Peloponnese. I’ll see her again a week on Monday.

 

Knitting has progressed. I’ve done another five rounds of legwarmer.

 

And Alexander has found a wellingtonia for us – a California redwood. We have planted various trees commemorating various ones of us. I wanted a wellingtonia for me and my husband – it’s a Californian tree, and I was born there. The Duke of Wellington – from whom, of course, it takes its British name – is a favourite of mine, and also comes in to the story of my husband’s artist, D*vid W*lkie, from whom he commissioned The Ch*lsea P*nsioners, in its day the most expensive contemporary British picture ever. And the tree, if it thrives, will one day obstruct the view from our neighbours’ house to the village. …a dish that is best eaten cold.

 

But in a summer like this one, the tree should remain in care for a couple more months since it will need regular watering.

 

Wordle: four for everybody today except Thomas – it’s very good to have him back. He scored three.

My scheduled visit to the kittens has been postponed; Manaba has ested position for Covid (although he remains in reasonable health).

 The weather feels as hot as before, although it probably isn’t. I didn’t go out. I devoted the morning to a much-needed bath. It is a precarious undertaking in my feeble old age.

 

Knitting went well. Progress is slow, but it’s steady that counts. I’ve now done 70 of 96 patterned rows. I’ve finished the second of three charts – Calf and Leg Shaping are done, Ankle remains.

 

Crochet66, that’s a good idea about a Calcutta Cup headband. It wouldn’t wear out like a sock. I’ll see if anybody is interested.

 

Wordle: Ketki and Alexander and I did it in four, Mark and Thomas needed five. It was one of those Wordle specials: we all reached, by various paths, the position of having four green tiles, with only the fourth letter missing. I thought of two possibilities; fortunately the second one was right. Mark had three failures before he got it right, Thomas two, Ketki and Alexander, like me, only one. When we got chatting about it after all the results were in, we thought of six letters altogether that could have fitted in that slot. It’s a wonder we all got it right.

 

Phase one of the competition to be the next Prime Minister is over. Despite all my fuss about thinking in categories the other day, I was struck by the fact that when the field had been reduced to five candidates (sometime last weekend?) we knew that the next Prime Minister wouldn’t be a White Man.

 

It’s hot – almost too hot to knit comfortably. Today is said to be the worst of it.

 

I got four rounds of legwarmer done – 41 patterned rows to go, plus some stripes and the final single-colour ribbing. Another thing which makes this knitting tedious (besides the small circumference) is that two of the colours are practically indistinguishable. They’re called Blue and Turquoise which makes them sound a good deal more different than they are. The rare rows of lime green come like a drink of cool water.

(Image from Jamieson and Smith)

 

Wordle: everybody did it in three today, including Thomas who has rejoined the party, and including Rachel in London. My first starter word gave me three browns. My second gave me nothing at all, except to eliminate five letters, Then I tackled the anagram, and got the answer. If I’d tackled it earlier, I might have scored two. Lesson for the future, perhaps.

 

Helen came. We got across to the garden and sat about there for a while. She is going to Greece for a family holiday at the end of the week.

 

Here is a picture of my great-grand-kittens. There are four kittens visible. Finding them is like one of those puzzles.

 

It’s hot, all right. If Edinburgh is like this, London must be blistering – true American heat.

 

I didn’t walk. Just as I was finishing my exercises – first thing after breakfast – I was struck with a sudden diarrhoea. No trouble since, but I took the rest of the morning quietly.

 

And resumed knitting the legwarmers. They aren’t quite as bad as I remembered – perhaps because the yoke of the Lilias Day was also a bit disappointing as far as the experience of colour knitting was concerned. Three rounds a day, and the patterned part will be done in a fortnight. And the rounds are small – that’s the whole trouble. Four or five a day should be perfectly feasible.

 

Crochet66 (comment Friday): that is a rather good idea, knitting the Calcutta Cup into the sock pattern in the new Shetland Wool Adventure magazine. My tentative thought is to knit something for Helen’s youngest son Fergus, who sat next to the captain of Scottish rugby on a flight south from Edinburgh not long before the match. I might ask him what he thinks of socks. I don’t have anything else particularly in mind.

 

Wordle: four today, for me. That’s a bit better. But I’ll never be as good as the others until I stop using two starter words. Between them they yielded one brown vowel today. Even so, I couldn’t think of a qualifying word and had to put a Jean-word which re-used one of my eliminated letters. As often, it was very useful: two greens and a new brown, enough to point me to the right answer. Ketki and Alexander did it in three, Mark needed four.

 

C. is now safely back in Edinburgh, but staying away because one of the wedding guests has Covid (and wasn’t entirely straight about it, during the stage when everybody was hugging). She will keep on testing daily. Meanwhile she has sent me first pictures of the kittens. I am impressed at how energetic they are, trying to walk without a single useful leg. They were born in the box Manaba and Hamish had prepared for the lying-in: surely a first in the history of cat-keeping.

 

A good day. Helen and I went to the garden centre at Hopeton where we spent an inordinate amount of money and then came home for a quick lunch and then she gardened on my doorstep until everything was planted and swept up after. Better late than never.

 

I’ve got the knitting all lined up, but still haven’t taken a stitch. I’ve found the pattern and the yarns and those funny needles I got to knit a small circumference in the round, and I’ve even located where I am in the pattern. I just haven’t actually picked it up and started. I have reminded myself, however, that the legwarmers commemorate our memorable Calcutta Cup victory in 2021, at Twickenham. We won again, this year, here at home: that’s still to be done. I had been lulling myself into the happy belief that when the legwarmers were finished, I was free of obligation (however self-imposed) and could knit whatever I wanted.

 

I was interested in your remark about Knitting magazine, Chloe. I have entertained the opposite thought: that their photography isn’t nearly as slick as Vogue’s and that might be why I occasionally knit things from the latter (and often want to), but not from the former. I don’t understand why my subscription to VK has been allowed to lapse. I must rectify that.

 

Wordle: I didn’t like today’s word. I got it in five, as usual. Three for Mark, four for both Alexander and Ketki. I learned today that Alexander regards it as “cheating” to look at anybody else’s grid before you have solved it yourself. Alexander is rather given to making up rules for life. I often look at others’ grids, if they’ve posted before I have in the morning, and it never does me the slightest good. It would be another matter if I knew their starter words.

 

We have another political debate this evening,. Maybe I’ll knit!!!

 

A day of unconnected events.

 

I woke up feeling weak and a bit dizzy. Low blood pressure? Why? I’m OK now, I think, but I didn’t do my exercises or walk this morning.

 

The egg which formed part of my lunch, was double-yoked. I haven’t seen one of them for years.

 

Christina and Manaba’s black cat has had a litter of black kittens. C. and M. are away at a wedding somewhere in the wilds of Scotland. Where is Hamish? Not with his grandmother C., who has also gone to the wedding. Maybe Hamish has too. The kittens were expected at any moment, so friends have moved in to the house to keep an eye on the cat. I hope to pay a call next week.

 

Wordle: a toughie, I thought. I scored my usual five. Mark also got five, Alexander and Ketki four, Rachel in London, three. I finally asked what has become of Thomas. The answer is that his telephone can no longer access the app – it’s called Signal – where we all post our results.

 

The new Knitting magazine is here. I have subscribed, I think, since the first issue, never been even mildly tempted to knit any of their patterns, rarely find the articles very interesting. I should cancel, shouldn’t I? There are hard times coming. I always look at it, though, and always read the back page, “Purl Princess”. This month she writes about the question of what to do with all those stunningly beautiful single skeins one has acquired on one’s travels. Answer: knit a Stephen West shawl – her own one is a great success. And as a parting shot, she recommends Birdstreet Yarn as a source of glorious skeins. I thought they were indeed pretty wonderful.

 

I haven’t knit anything myself today, but I am advancing on the legwarmers. Can I find all the yarn?