Again, not much. I finished the bridegroom's pearly-white pocket square (and am pleased with it) – but got an email from the Man Himself, saying that we need one more blue one, for the Master of Ceremonies. (Joe performed that function for his brother Thomas at last year's wedding, and did it very well.)

I wasn't quite sure whether the left-over ball of blue yarn was enough for a whole square, so virtuously wound another skein to avoid the possibility of extra ends. Unfortunately, Perdita had by then awoken from the nap that had let me finish the bridegroom's square, and was determined to help. She managed to break the yarn in three places. I will have to shut her out of the room the next time I'm winding. She is always where I am, the most faithful of companions, and I hate even to think of doing that. Fortunately, the first ball, before she really got going, is clearly going to be big enough to finish a single square. I'll start it today.

Yesterday afternoon, feeling hollow, I ordered a pair of socks' worth of madelinetosh from Webs in Whiskey Barrell and another in Chicory. Not madelinetosh Sock, which is pure wool, but something else – does the word “Twist” appear in the title? – of fairly recent issue, with the usual 25% acrylic. Webs didn't have Arne & Carlos, to my surprise, but I easily found a British supplier and ordered a pair of unknit socks in one of their shades, the strong, dark one.

Liz, thanks for the reminder about Kate Davies' Machrihanish. I say “reminder”, although I'm not really sure I remember it. In any case, I've bought the e-book and am now (I hope) printing it. I like the other, non-KD, pattern, too, a cabled hoodie. The knit-related skill I would most like to acquire is the neat setting-in of a zipper. What I need is a Craftsy class from Franklin. I believe he has something of the sort in his teaching repertoire.

I assumed, before I googled, that the pattern would be in Colours of Shetland, and spent some pleasant moments with that excellent book.

I'm spending a lot of time with Craftsy, these lonely evenings. Sympathy not needed; I love solitude. I have become a passionate fan of Lucy Neatby's. I am nearly finished with her class on Double Knitting – then I'll be ready to tackle Alasdair Post-Quinn. (I've just googled him, and was astonished to discover that I spelled his name right first go.) I went to Lucy's website, and was most interested to discover that she won't send things to the UK because a new EU regulation about VAT is too much for her.

I wonder if that explains that yarn store in Houston which wouldn't send any order for less than $10,000?

Non-knit

I took the pictures of Alyth to my husband in hospital yesterday. He was sorry, as am I, that we weren't there for the flood. Greek Helen will be there next week – next week. My husband says that I must set her to take a sequential series of pictures of the high-water mark of detritus which the flood is certain to have left in front of our house and down the commonty. An excellent idea.

Helen and two of her boys will also be here next week, before they go on to Strathardle. They are eagerly anticipated.

I saw something in some magazine the other day about Summer Pudding and realised fully for the first time, with what can only be called a pang, that we have lost 2015. Birds will have stripped the red-currant bush by the time Helen gets there – it needs to be carefully netted.

No medical news. I will have another blood test today.