Sorry about yesterday. Bad night, Sunday.

But life goes on, inching forward. I've signed up for Woolly Wormhead's mystery KAL hat, but fear I'm falling at the first hurdle. A provisional cast-on is required which turns out not to be provisional but permanent. Am I up to it? I took the other, actual hat with me yesterday when I toiled upstairs to visit my elderly neighbour, mentioned before. I can tell you that from the ground to the first floor, at No 1 Scotland Street, there are 24 stone steps, and another 24 from the first to the second, but only 22 from the second to the third, where my friend lives. There are also 16 from the pavement to the beginning of the first flight.

I had a very nice time once I got there, and got another set of cables crossed without mishap. Then in the evening we had a small inundation through the ceiling in the room we call the Downstairs Lavatory. Constant readers will remember that we have had similar and worse visitations from the neighbours directly above in the past. They, too, live at No 1 Scotland Street so I had to run up the 16 steps from the street and then the first set of 24 again. The neighbour was surprisingly apologetic. “At least there were no books and no pictures involved this time,” I said, out loud.

We've got a new system (of which I have high hopes) which allows me to stay up for an hour after my husband's early bed. I celebrated yesterday by starting the fifth Dunfallandy triangle (of eight). On the v-neck vest, I am casting off the second armhole – it may achieve FO status today!

And I have finally sent an order to Webs for more madtosh Whiskey Barrel DK. I figure I need three skeins – call it four – to finish the Sous Sous. I ordered eight, as I am now obsessed with the idea of a vertically-striped half-brioche big cosy sweater for myself in Roast Hatch Chilli, with Whiskey Barrel in the subordinate role.

Many a WIP to polish off first, plus something for the Little Boys if we win the Calcutta Cup in February – scarves, I think is the current idea.

The young Polish woman who cleans for me has relatively little to do these days, as our private carers clean and iron, some better than others but all better than me. So Gosia and I have been cleaning out kitchen cupboards, with great success, and I think maybe this week we might move on to the stash cupboard. It is time to make a realistic assessment of life expectancy and only keep, perhaps, three times as much as I could possibly ever knit. The Koigu is sacrosanct.