A pretty good day. Archie’s presence was calming, as hoped, and I was able to strike a few items off my list, always a satisfying occupation. Gauff was beaten, sure enough, which takes a bit of pressure off the weekend. Nadal and Djokovic are through, and Federer seems to be cruising.

I will devote tomorrow to my toilet, as we say in Victorian novels, and to packing.

I’ve done a bit more knitting. I’m sorry to have to leave the shawl behind when I go south, but socks are the only practical possibility. In the days when my husband and I went to London three or four times a year, I produced a lot of socks. Not many of late.

Non-knit

I found this most unexpected sentence in “Castle Richmond” last night:

“There is a story current, that in the west of England the grandeur of middle-aged maiden ladies is measured by the length of the tail of their cats.”

I haven’t tried listening to Melvin Bragg on the Famine yet. I will. Lisa, thank you for the link. I agree with you and Shandy, that “In Our Time” is almost invariably interesting.

In my current reading, the Famine is going from bad to worse, both in “Castle Richmond” and in my sober history book. In 1846 the entire crop failed, and Peel’s government fell in London and was replaced by one perhaps less efficient. They continued to try, but less and less effectively.