I guess you’d have to say that the funeral was a great success, although the phrase sounds inappropriate. It was a beautiful day, clear blue sky, pretty cold but absolutely still. The dreadful wind turbines on the moor above Alyth weren’t turning. (Wind turbines need their own Hitchcock to make a North-by-Northwest-type movie about them.) There was a good turnout – even the local baronet came, the man who leads the pipe band onto the Bannerfield, with drawn sword, on Games day.

The metrical psalm “The Lord’s My Shepherd” is pretty well obligatory at Scottish funerals. There is a special poignancy about singing it for a shepherd.

The burial ground is a short distance from the church, along the road towards our house. When we first came to Kirkmichael, 53 years ago, there were only two or three graves. Now, a lot of our friends are there, and our grandson, and my husband, and, sooner or later, me. If you know Thornton Wilder’s play “Our Town” you’ll remember the village graveyard. It’s like that. They did that play in Pitlochry decades ago and had me in tears. Even James, aged about seven, said “It makes my eyes prickle”.

We’ll have a good time on the Day of Judgment, standing around talking to each other.

No knitting yesterday, but today I have finished tidying the baby shawl and sewing the open corner. I’m rather pleased with it, and hope I’ll get it blocked tomorrow. I’ll take before-and-after pictures for you. It’s too dark for photography just now.

So I’ll be available for a new WIP just in time for the Calcutta Cup match on Saturday. Perhaps it’s a Sign.

This week’s West Highland Way pattern is a cowl, pleasant enough but not one for my list. Meanwhile the indefatigable KD has turned her “Carbeth” pattern into a cardigan. It’s a short, easy-fitting, cosy number which has become instantly popular in its original, pullover form. The cardigan, especially, is seriously tempting. Two strands of Buachaille held together.