I had a lovely night in my new pyjamas, although it seemed odd to be sleeping in so many clothes. I enjoyed dressing up for my own pleasure and not having to go out and submit myself to the judgement of the world.

And I’ve finished row 49 of the Spring Shawl borders. Only one more to go, if I stick to my resolution to switch after row 50 to one of my other two projects. I think I’d better do it. It won’t be long before I’m back. The third ball of yarn is beginning to look a bit poorly – I did hope to see it like that before the pause.

I have pressed on with “Unsheltered”. It’s not as long as I expected, thank goodness, and the scientific bits are not very demanding. The substance of the “past” sections turns out to be entirely historical. Mary Lou, I hesitated over the word “utopian” when I was composing last night. I don’t think it’s right. Vineland was a planned community, run by its developer, no alcohol allowed, rules governing trees. That doesn’t quite add up to Utopia. 

Here is Perdita today:

The three mugs commemorate the Queen Mother’s 80^th, 90^th and 100^th birthdays. I gave them to my mother, one by one. (She was slightly younger.) When the Queen Mother was about to turn 100, I couldn’t find anything in the smart china shops in London – but then one day, walking around Blairgowrie, I remembered that the QM was born at Glamis Castle not far away: they would surely have something. And they did.

Perdita was a great climber in kittenhood – including straight up my legs. One day she fell from a high shelf in the kitchen, with a great crash of crockery and some breakage. But no cat. After a while I even pulled the refrigerator forward to see if she was lying dead behind it. Eventually she reappeared, limping. She was still limping five or six days later, and crying when her hip was touched, so I took her to the vet where she was anesthetised and x-rayed (at considerable expense) but it was only a sprain.

She has been a bit more cautious since then, and being spayed has slowed her down further.