Sunday, October 11, 2020


I knit patiently on with the body of what will be the Machu Picchu sweater, but it’s slow. The yarn is fine, and it’s a long way around. This dark charcoal is too dark for the winter solstice. I spent some time today trying to think of something more colourful, without success. Hopes are pinned on Kate Davies producing something in the latest club. We’ve had three sweaters so far, all single-colour, but at least we haven’t lapsed into cowls and fingerless mitts. This week’s essay is about i-cord, not without interest.


And I really must get to grips with that hat.


All well otherwise. Baby Hamish and his mother are home from hospital. He’s still a bit congested but can feed comfortably.


Is it interesting? is it odd? that the corona-virus is getting worse everywhere at once? At least in a lot of places, from London to Rome to Jerusalem, as well as in the US. (“London” is there for rhetorical effect – in fact, in England the disease is concentrating itself in the Midlands and the North.) We each blame our own governments.


Thank you for all your sympathy about my cancelled cruise. Next year in Jerusalem, indeed! Weavinfool, I had a good going-over by a geriatric medicine team last summer (2019) and they found nothing wrong except a reduced heart function (something about “systole” and “diastole”) which they said was common in old women. I haven’t seen a doctor since, although I consulted one by telephone when I scraped my ribs that time, falling off a chair in Kirkmichael. I don’t even know what they’re doing about appointments.




I’ve just finished the new Nicci French, “House of Correction”. I would say rather emphatically that it’s not very good, and is depressing. I’m a fan of theirs (it’s a husband-and-wife collaboration), which makes it all the sadder. However, there was a column in the Times yesterday (or somewhere) about books to be re-read, and it led me to Edith Wharton’s “House of Mirth”. I think it’ll keep me very happy for a few days. I would have said with conviction that I had read it, as a bedtime reading-aloud book, but it is not stirring the faintest movement of memory.


  1. I'm hoping that this comment gets through as recently they haven't. Did you catch that item in "The Times" about the former fighter pilots, now in their nineties, using a kind of exercise bike that you pedal while seated in your armchair? One of them had clocked up 900 miles. You might be able to listen to an audiobook or to music while keeping your circulation going.

  2. Anonymous9:04 PM

    I doubt "House of Mirth" will keep you happy, but I would think it would keep your interest.

    Beverly in NJ

    1. Anonymous3:46 PM

      Just what I came here to say - not a happy book, but a good one.
      --Gretchen (aka stashdragon)

  3. I agree with Beverly - beautifully written but not a happy book. No Mirth there.

  4. =Tamar6:09 AM

    I am bemused by your obvious fondness for books I would consider depressing, but then, my sister doesn't seem to understand my fondness for books and songs that make me laugh. At least laughing requires me to breathe more deeply!
    Best wishes and good luck finding a nice brightly colored sweater pattern.

  5. Anonymous6:26 AM

    That's a good point about the pedalling gadget you use while confortably seated. My dad recently gave up his daily walk to take care of my mother, who had broken her leg. He developed a deep vein thrombosis in his leg and then pulmonary embolism (blood clots in the lungs). I am getting him one of those bikes although we are also reassuring him that it is okay (as mum improves) to start his daily walks again.