Sunday, April 03, 2005

No Picture Today

We're safely back from the country.

The sun didn't shine all week, not a glimmer (until the drive home ysterday, predictably). It was an odd, grey Easter week -- the parallel agonies of Mrs Schiavo and the Pope, the peevishness of Prince Charles. ("Schiavo" means "slave" in Italian, I think. How could it become a family name?) Now the week of the Prince's wedding will be completely overshadowed by the Pope's dying -- perhaps the only world celebrity who clearly outranks the British royal family. I'm not sorry.

Spring, despite the gloom, is powerfully coiled for action. The grass has taken on that sinister green colour which means that it is growing and will soon have to be cut. The potatoes are sprouting. The snowdrops are over and the daffodils are out.


I made great progress with the striped Koigu -- photo promised soon. I love the effect, and the feel of the fabric. Back at base, I have resumed the right sleeve of the jacket. Sure enough, the colours seem to have gone slightly awry. Tania, thank you for your comment. And Julianne, for yours. I have added both websites to my Favourites list -- click below where it says "Comments (1)" beneath (a) the latest picture of the jacket and (b) the text for Easter Day, for the URLs.

Marian has made an inventory of all the Barbara Venishnick patterns she could find (, a valuable resource which I shall print and save.


I have been thinking a lot, and have still done nothing. We drove north on Monday in a considerable rainstorm. I decided to let the potatoes rot and go ahead with the cataract operation right now. I can't remember quite why I decided that. Then on Wednesday I had to do a variety of errands, a thirty or forty mile round-trip, just like suburban America, and when I finished doing that I felt, what am I worrying about? That was fine. As the week went on and I got my hands muddier -- many a creeping buttercup and fragment of sinister creeping grass has fallen -- I felt again that I simply couldn't be away from Strathardle for too long in April and May. Or june. Or July. But sight isn't good.




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