My husband will be in hospital for another few days. I gather that not much is wrong medically, but he is conspicuously weaker than he was during those – fairly horrendous – two days at home last week. We were present yesterday to watch him being moved from chair to bed, the space of a few inches, by two nurses. I couldn't manage with anything less than 24-hour help.

I wouldn't say that he is resigned to it, but he has realised that simple fury is not going to suffice to get him out. A physiotherapist explained to him yesterday that going home now, even with care, would probably result in his sinking further. Daily physiotherapy at the hospital for a while is much more likely to be productive of results.

Rachel and Ed were here yesterday, as well as Greek Helen. They had long planned to spend this weekend on Loch Fyne tasting possible wines for the wedding – Matt and Hellie are coming up, too. I suspect a good time will be had by all. Rachel and Ed both managed to get an extra day off work so that they could come here first to visit my husband. They went west yesterday evening. Greek Helen is still here – she and Archie (because it's half-term) are flying back to Athens tomorrow on that early EasyJet flight of happy memory.

Knitting

However, that's not really the news.

It is this: one of you gave me the Fantoosh pattern, through Ravelry. I have sent a message of thanks by the same means, which I hope she has received. I have printed and studied the pattern.

And someone else has anonymously paid Old Maiden Aunt for the yarn. I've had an email from Paypal to say that my payment has been refunded. A Random Act of Kindness, the donor said.

It is impossible to express my feelings about this kindness. I showed the note from PayPal to Greek Helen this morning, and saw tears in her eyes. That's how I feel, too. Thank you and thank you and thank you.

And I think I will allow myself to wind the yarn and start the shawl this morning – although after that, I will have to lay it aside until something is finished. It begins – Kate D., how could you? – with a four-link crochet chain in waste yarn, the foundation of a garter tab.

Well, as it happens, I've done a garter tab with Stephen West. He starts by casting on three stitches. Kate Davies wants me to pick up only two from that chain. I'll try casting on – I have searing memories of crochet chains and waste yarn and agonised unpicking. Maybe casting on won't work for only two stitches, but that's what I'll try first. (You then knit six rows, then pick up stitches down the side and across the cast-on edge – or, in Kate D's case, you whip out the chain and knit the two live stitches.)

Whatever, it won't take long. I'll report back soon. If casting on doesn't work, I must have a crochet hook here somewhere. I resolved yesterday that if my husband is going to be safely incarcerated for the next few days, as appears to be the case, I must make better use of my few remaining mornings. Up to now, I have been spending them, one could almost say, huddled in terror at the prospect of the afternoon's hospital visit, and then flinging myself into bed, exhausted, on arrival home.

I've been having a very nice time with Craftsy, when I wake up at 4 a.m. after the above procedure. I've finished Nancy Bush and her nupps and gone on to Eunny Jang and lace. She's engagingly enthusiastic. Her name is pronounced “Oony”. I think I had been wondering if there would be a “y” sound in there.

Bush's sample Estonian shawl was beautiful. I'm tempted. I have something to say about the way the edging is attached, but perhaps that's better left for tomorrow.