Happy Thanksgiving.

The man on Prayer for the Day today – to which I often wake up, at 5:42 – mentioned the practice of going around the table  and having everybody declare something they were thankful for in the last year. For me, it would have to be James' coming here for the wedding weekend, so that I could go.

Mary Schiffmann (as in, The Lacy Knitting of Mary Schiffmann) used to write to a person or organisation every year, thanking them for something they had done. “One year I wrote to the Portuguese embassy in New York thanking them for Portugal's boneless and skinless sardines. The ambassador sent an enormous basket filled with every kind of sardine imaginable. The family had sardines for a very long time.”

I've never encountered a boneless and skinless sardine, and would like to. Schiffmann was deeply involved with Mount Holyoke, going back nearly to its foundation – grandmother, mother, four aunts, as well as herself.

All went well with knitting again yesterday. I've now got quite a nice little run of disaster-free scallops on the edging of the Unst Bridal Shawl, and the third corner is enticingly close. But again, I stopped after two. I counted Archie's stitches last night – they're all there. I've done about 6” since the sleeves were abandoned – 17” is the goal. The third skein is still not finished, but should expire tonight.

On Saturday I am going for a walk with our niece. We're confining ourselves to Edinburgh this time – the Braid Hills, where I've never been. So tomorrow I must gather in the weekend shopping, including a sandwich lunch for my husband, and today I had better plan it all out. Both days are unencumbered otherwise, thank goodness.

I'm in a bit of an end-of-year panic about Christmas, even thus truncated, and the income tax in January. I may have to get used to spending less delicious early-morning time with you guys.