And yet again, almost nothing to tell you. The body of Miss Rachel is beginning to look seriously like a sweater, but there is still a way to go. But it was a good day in general, in which I got a thing or two done.

 I think I have decided on the Soutache, as my present from Carol Sunday. A) because it’s beautiful B) because I have sort of been dallying with brioche lately and C) because I am afraid there is simply too much knitting in the beautiful Pueblo stoles.

Poor Susan Crawford (whom I stalk on Twitter) has been having some lymphodoema (a build-up of lymphatic fluids where lymph glands have been removed) and some chest pain, perhaps from a broken rib. We have been promised another statement soon, about the timetable for the publication of the book.

Tamar, thank you for that comment about those books…..

That much I wrote last night. Then Helen and her son Mungo dropped in, to say goodbye. They will drive off to London tomorrow, whence Mungo will fly to Jordan for the year-abroad which is part of his university course in Arabic. Helen and Farouk, who is a dog, will drive on to Thessaloniki.

Unlike yesterday, today was not much of a good day at all.

But anyway, back to that unexpected package from the Schoolhouse. I was comforted, Joan, by your comment saying that you often get such packages. And interested, Tamar, that you found me mentioning “Selbuvotter” last December. The paperwork in the box says that I placed the order towards the end of July. It came surface mail.

I think my future rule-of-life has got to be, no knit-related orders after 6 p.m.