A good day, I think, on the whole. Alexander and Ketki came this morning with Thomas, the wounded hero, 

who walks now without a limp. (One of his legs was shattered in an accident on the football field just before Christmas.) James, the elder brother, had a bad cold and stayed at home. They went on to Murrayfield to see Scotland beat France, so that was good, too. Thomas in the picture is wearing his scarf commemorating Scotland’s draw in the Calcutta Cup match at Twickenham in 2019.

When my niece C. drove me to our early Mass this morning and back again, through what is usually the empty city except in Festival-time, we saw lots of comic Frenchmen in native costume, lacking only a string of onions. They will have had a disappointing day.

If any of their team now come down with COVID-19 (see yesterday’s blog), it will be worse.

What wasn’t good was that I discovered, mid-morning, that my electric Aga was dead. I couldn’t find the relevant fuse, but Alexander rapidly did, and that restored the auxiliary hot plate. But not the Aga. I will have to phone the electrician tomorrow. At least I can cook myself some sausages while I wait. And porridge for my breakfast tomorrow. Things could be worse.

Meanwhile I have reached row 72 of the Cameron Shawl borders, and have passed the most tedious row of the current motifs, those k3tog lozenges at their maximum. In the next pattern row (no. 71) I will establish a new motif, and the lozenges will begin to diminish.

Non-knit, non-rugby

I have finished reading Penelope Lively’s “Consequences”. Not her best. And have subsided into the arms of Trollope – “Mr Scarborough’s Family”. I suspect it’s not his best, either, but the bar is higher.