I had a grand day in North Berwick. Good recent weather was predicted to turn, but it didn’t. We had summer warmth to an extent that might have provoked a Hillary-episode. We walked on the beach with happy dogs and ate fish and chips. No photographs, alas.

I am very grateful for all your comments about my present dilemma.

Auntie Jane, I have read on-line of the American retirement facilities which provide for different stages of decrepitude in each of two partners. I don’t think that’s possible here. I think, in general, that retirement communities are more attractive in the US.

And, Judith, you’re right – a care home for my husband would mean pretty well daily visiting. As does his current incarceration, but the care home we have in mind is slightly further away than the hospital.

We'll know a lot more in a couple of days -- the big question being, if we move my husband now, does that disqualify us for council care and thus make a return home next to impossible? 

I need to take myself in hand – now. I spend mornings in a state of mounting tension, getting a bit done but usually not much. Then I go to the hospital, often stopping at Waitrose on the way. Then I come back, cook myself something, nap, spend a couple of evening hours accomplishing little, early bed. I think there are adjustments that could be made to make my days more productive, although it’s difficult to think of what they might be.

An occupational therapist came in while I was visiting on Friday and gave my husband a cognitive test. He didn’t do very well, but it was fun. Count backwards from 100 in intervals of 7? “Who is the Prime Minister?” is almost a trick question these days. My husband thought it was Cameron – he’s been in hospital for two months now and hasn’t exactly been reading the papers.

Knitting

Only five more rows to go of Chart C of the Uncia – my ambition is to finish today. There’s a mistake in the last row I did – I have twisted a stitch in the wrong direction. I realized this before I had finished knitting the row, and found the place. I think it will be redeemable during the next row but I decided last night that it was wiser to go to bed than to press on.

It’s going fairly briskly at the moment. Right-side rows are slow because of endless cabling and twisting, but it’s possible to get a grasp of what is happening and execute considerable stretches of it without peering. Wrong-side rows are brisker, but watch out for those slipped stitches. And never take Lucy Hague for granted, is my advice.

I should finish the ribbing of the second Whiskey Barrel sock today. I was delayed on Friday by the mysterious loss of a needle. I will never go on a hospital visit again with fewer than five. It turned up under the bed (where I thought I’d looked) when the occupational therapist arrived.