The knitting of the Spring Shawl is back in order. Perdita’s mess will just about pass the galloping horse test, but certainly won’t stand up to closer inspection. There are 15 more pattern rows to go, and then I can’t remember – 7 or 9 – to finish off. Not entirely negligible, but I should eventually get there. Cardboard is beginning to show throw the second ball of yarn: that’s encouraging.

Andrew and Andrea didn’t have anything of riveting interest for me, and made a pleasant background while I put the shawl back in order. And IK turned up, a pleasant autumnal issue full of cosy sweaters but nothing I have to rush out and knit.

Today was Exam Result Day in Scotland. Helen and David’s youngest son Fergus did well, as did Alexander and Ketki’s elder son James. It’s next week, I think, when we hear James’ and Cathy’s daughter Kirsty’s A-Level results. That’s a big one.

Last night’s programme about the conjoined twins was well worth staying up for. The girls were delightful, their devoted father an inspiring character. The emphasis of the programme was on the strategy meetings at Great Ormond Street. Everybody was there – world-famous surgeon, anaesthetist, clergyman, nurses , the girls’ father – and nobody knew what to do.

It was agreed that the weaker sister wouldn’t survive surgery. The stronger one had a fair chance, but no more than that. That being the case, the father wouldn’t agree to surgery. The hospital didn’t argue. The father thought that he would agree to surgery if the weaker one began to fail, but they had to explain to him that by then, it would be too late. Both would die.