I’m much better. That was a funny one. Rather encouraging, in a way – I had been feeling rather ache-y of joints and unenthusiastic in the days preceding and had sort of attributed it to old age.

But it was also a reminder of how precarious our life is. My husband can’t do much for himself. If I can’t either, the structure collapses. There’s still the London Street Grocery, the prince of corner shops. The deli won’t deliver, I don’t think, but LSG will, and Mrs Hussain and I are on first-name terms, after 15 years.

This is the week when we mean to go to Strathardle – Helen will arrive late on Thursday. If we manage that, it will be a valuable tonic for both.

I knit some more of the sock, and it continues wonderful. Attempts to buy the “Vampires of Venice” colorway continue fruitless. The Loopy Ewe lists it as “out of stock” and I have added it to a wishlist. Apparently the name derives from an episode of Dr Who.

Non-knit

There was an article about Lionel Shriver in our Sunday paper yesterday, a propos a new book from her about obesity derived from the story of her brother, who died of it. The article mentioned her book “So Much for That” which is about the expense and complication of healthcare for Americans who are insured.

I liked “We’ve Got to Talk about Kevin” – if “liked” is the word – so I downloaded that one. I don’t recommend it. The characters just sit about talking. But I think I’ll probably continue to speed-read it because the subject is interesting.