All well – at least, as well as all ever is in this vale of tears. Don’t miss the preceding Stop Press, and thanks to all who have already commented on it.

Katie, I agree, if we go ahead with this at all, Murrayfield had better see the whole collection. I’m pretty sure Cathy gave me back her daughter Kirsty’s Christening shawl, which shows the 2000 Cup, and I’m pretty sure I know where it is. Alexander has an all-over Fair Isle (?’06) which, even holding his breath, he can no longer wear, but I’m sure he’s got it. Ketki has the ’08, and it still fits fine. ’10 was a draw – I knit a hat for James Miles the Younger, with half the Cup. He lost it, but a photograph exists.

You’ll notice the pattern of even-numbered years. We never win at Twickenham.

As for the on-going problems: still no Resident’s Parking Permit, but my windscreen note is still working, and has saved me £30 at least since midday yesterday.

The vet has diagnosed Perdita with nothing worse than sloppy grooming. I was braced for terminal cancer, and Helen – who drove us down there and back – for a cyst. The affected area has been shaved and it is nice to see again how God maps out the design for such a cat on its skin.

I set upon the to-do list with the hoped-for vigour this morning. Everything is done except for paying the parking fines – I hesitate, in case I get another one – and writing out a detailed programme of cat care for my absence. I should be able to manage both of those in the remaining week.

But I haven’t done any knitting.

Tomorrow is Rachel’s 60^th birthday. If ever a day was the First Day of the Rest of My Life, it was the 23^rd of June, 1958.