A good day yesterday, on the whole. I knocked off a couple of insignificant chores from the list that looms so large at four in the morning – ordering seeds, very belatedly, for my doorstep garden; writing (with ink, on paper) to the Caliban-figure who has been cutting our grass in Strathardle for the last few years, to tell him we have engaged someone to look after the whole garden, including grass, and therefore don't need him any more.

As Hercules found when dealing with the Hydra, the more you do, the more there is to do.

Archie is coming to lunch today, and will hang out for a couple of hours in the afternoon taking advantage of our unrestricted internet access in the intervals allowed him between chores. His large, cheerful presence will be very welcome. I am astonished and delighted that he wants to come. Visits to grandparents, although dutifully performed, were not sought by me when I was his age.

I remember, in particular, a visit from Oberlin to my paternal grandmother in Constantine, Mich, at Thanksgiving in (probably) 1950. The whole thing was an ordeal, prompted by my mother. The return journey was a long, slow nightmare, because of snow throughout Michigan and Ohio, and perhaps -- who knows? -- elsewhere. I was Archie's present age. I wonder how old my grandmother was? My father had been rather an afterthought, in that family, so she was probably, although not necessarily, older than I am now. Did she enjoy having me?

I might mention that I feel sure that Archie is pursuing advanced gaming on the Internet when he is here, not porn. I think I have come up from behind him too often, when his hearing has been obscured by earphones and the screen visible to me, to be mistaken about that.

Knitting

We've got to the point where two circuits of the borders of the Unst Bridal Shawl is a good day's work, and yesterday I managed two and a half. I am just starting circuit 63. I was interrupted at the turning-point by some irritating domestic duty, and when I sat down again, found that I didn't know which direction I was going in.

I marked the right side with a safety pin at the beginning of border-knitting, but I haven't needed it and by now it has worked itself halfway through the fabric and isn't much use as an indicator.

I am embarrassed to admit that it took me several minutes to work out how I would know the answer. the work being perfectly symmetrical. I even asked myself – this is an even more embarrassing admission – whether it would matter if I was wrong for one round.

The answer came to me soon enough – if I hadn't turned, I would be knitting stocking stitch. I think, in fact, that has happened, and I will have to undo 12 or 15 stitches when I get to grips with it today.

Otherwise, all goes well. The new motifs, now nine stitches wide, remain straightforward. There are some k3tog's, not too many – and it all depends, as I have said, how the stitches were formed in the round before, which must now be reduced to one.

But today is Sunday. I must press on.