Today is the second anniversary of my husband’s sister’s death. Cardinal Newman, who was of a somewhat morbid turn of mind, says something somewhere about how odd it is to think that every year we pass through the day, unrecognised, which is to become the day of our death.

That winter, two years ago, was a savage one, much worse than the one now ending – or, rather, not ending. But by the 21^st of March, 2011, it was spring.

We got on well with the doctor yesterday, I guess. My husband’s oxygen-saturation is just where it was two years ago. He has been referred back to the Respiratory specialists, however; and also to someone for the Hand. His right hand sort of seized up a year or so ago. It could be a kind of diabetic arthritis, the dr said. It’s a nuisance to my husband. So lots of sock-knitting in waiting rooms looms ahead.

As for the Diaabled Parking Badge, the dr promised a supporting letter but was not at all sure that we qualify. I suppose that is encouraging, in a depressing sort of way. It doesn’t get us to Mass or to the National Gallery.

So today involves no excitement at all – a day for Getting on With Things. I feel tired already.

A propos of nothing: my favourite Scotsman columnist published this last Saturday. I’m going to cut out and keep.

Computing

I am developing my use of Evernote. It won’t go into the iPad, alas, without “OS 5” which (apparently) I haven’t got. I bought “Evernote for Dummies” despite reader-reviews on Amazon which said there was no need to, you could figure it out yourself. I thought the reader-reviewers didn’t realise how much of a Dummy I am – but they were right. Avoid the book.

Knitting

This is a link to somewhat long-winded blog entries by the woman doing the sheep-research which is to be supported by the e-book that Myrna Stahman is contributing to: not an elegant sentence. See yesterday. I am not entirely persuaded by her drawing of a Shetland ram. He looks wise and even benevolent. All the sheep I’ve ever met look stupid and sly. Perhaps Shetland rams are different.

The Relax continues well. A couple more evenings should finish this first sleeve. I have gone down a needle size or two, as the designer suggests. I am wondering if the sleeve is too narrow, as a result. The Socklady’s latest post has a most interesting illustration of a pair of her wonderful socks knit by mistake on different-sized needles. The difference was only .25 mm but the socks are undoubtedly of different sizes.

The success of my sleeve will all depend on how far down the dropped shoulder comes. It’s meant to come to the elbow, or nearly, with this final narrow bit, therefore, for the upper forearm. Much to worry about.