Another pleasant day with little achieved. I must somehow take myself in hand.

I am on to the next stripe in Miss Rachel’s Yoke. Each one involves two colours, and when its turn comes round again, the colours are reversed. The main colour – the only one I am worried about – is involved three times. For its final appearance, as for its first, it is supposed to take the leading role. It would have a better chance of making it to the finish line if I asked it only to be the pattern colour. We shall see.

Despite achieving so little, day by day, I am enjoying planning a shawl for the next great-grandchild. I could knit a basic-type Shetland hap using one of my packages of gradient yarns for the border colours. I could knit Mrs Hunter of Unst’s famous shawl again – Rachel says that Hellie has used it, as I hoped, for carrying Orla about, and the next one will be a summer baby as well.

What was that yarn? No doubt the answer is somewhere here in the blog.

And the long-anticipated Japanese stitch pattern book should be with us soon. Maybe there will be the germ of an idea there.

Here is the picture of Orla in the Pollywog towards the end of last Saturday afternoon, in the arms of her father Matt. I sent it to myself from my phone yesterday. It must have chosen the scenic overland route:

And here is a rather successful, but wholly irrelevant, picture of Paradox which Alexander took a week or so ago:

Rachel and Ed have a beautiful black cat named Pushkin. She has beautiful black whiskers – a design detail I had never noticed until last weekend. My cats have white whiskers.

Greek Helen is now back from Thessaloniki, and from London, and is swinging into action. She is determined to make our house in Strathardle – see sidebar – fit for renting out, so that it can pay its own way in the world. She is going there tomorrow to embark on that project. She also means to take me in hand, and render this house in Drummond Place somewhat more comfortable to live in. What Helen sets out to achieve, gets done.