Shrove Tuesday

Health

I saw a dr at the end of yesterday afternoon, setting off as cheerfully as to the gallows because I believed I would be sent straight to hospital. Alexander and Ketki, thinking along the same lines, had splendidly offered to entertain my husband. They will be rewarded in heaven.

The dr does think that the trouble is my heart (and I haven't forgotten, =Tamar, that you said that at the beginning). I was slightly surprised that he couldn't just listen to it and know everything, but apparently not (although he did listen). He has prescribed a diuretic and aspirin and one of those sprays we have heard about which you spray under your tongue in a crisis to dilate the coronary arteries. I am to present myself at the Western Infirmary for an ECG and a chest x-ray -- I've got a chit but no appt; that should yield some good knitting time. And then see the dr again next week.

It wasn't the nice young man I had been seeing so far, but it was someone I knew (and like) because my husband has consulted him.

And I am here, a free woman, not in hospital! I shall spend the day floating happily in my pre-Lenten cider and cooking nice things and then maybe devote Ash Wednesday to the Western Infirmary.

This ought to mean that I never again have to do anything I don't want to do, but I doubt if it will work out that way.

Knitting

I got the second Pakokku sock cast on yesterday, while waiting to see the dr. Waiting times aren't what they used to be, and these socks are not progressing very briskly.

And in the evening, I got the stitches picked up for the second Milano sleeve, a job I don't enjoy. Obviously, for a second sleeve, there's no leeway at all on the number. However, I got it done. The sleeve itself should go fast, now that I know, from the first sleeve, exactly how far I've got to go. It may have taken me a long time to get back to, and I may grumble at being deprived of lace, but I love it:

Miscellaneous

There was a considerable satisfaction, the other evening as we watched the television news, at seeing Russian soldiers in Crimea wearing balaclavas. That's where Balaclava is, in Crimea.

Lent: Knitlass, your husband should be persuaded that the Sundays don't count, if he just counts the days. From tomorrow until the day before Easter, inclusive, there are 46 days. Lent is based on the 40 days Our Lord spent in the wilderness. The extra six are the Sundays, which don't count as Lent.