Thursday in Games Week

More than half over.

I acknowledge, here, a previously rather understated fact: that I have a functioning laptop and indifferent broadband connection here in Strathardle, and could be blogging away every day.

Today is a proper summer's day -- we've had very few since early May. Better yet, the lawnmower is on the blink.

The whole party except for the extreme oldies has gone off up Glen Derby, four or five miles or so, to the Ruined Bothy -- James and his children, Helen and David and theirs, my sister and her husband. (James' wife Cathy is sadly missing -- she has gone to London to publicise her new book.) James and his son Alistair will camp there overnight, the rest will trudge back this evening. We are enjoying the peace and quiet, and the sense that they are here.

I've been pushing forward with Ketki's gansey, in a state of increasing unease about the apparent fact that I have a lot more stitches in the second sleeve than I did in the first one. Of course I have careful notes -- but the intervals of time mean that actual memory isn't as sharp as it might be. Does a major frog loom? I have suddenly taken on board the fact that if I finish this thing, I can knit something else. Not much use if I have to go back to square five.

Sam the Ram is grateful for expressions of support from around he world. My big fear now is that he'll be the only entry in his class (6(b): Knitted Toy) -- I'd rather he finshed second in a class of two than first by default.

The agricultural show has been cancelled because of the foot & mouth restrictions. I trust that won't affect Sam. But it would surely have meant that Dolores would have been in danger of Extraordinary Rendition if she had dared to show up.