I’ve cast on the Evendoon. (Is that what it’s called?) Kate Davies’ Schiehallion yarn  is splendid. She describes it as a “DK, or heavy sportweight”. That seems about right. Certainly heavier than the Shetland jumper-weight I’ve been involved with recently. It produces a beautiful, smooth fabric and is lovely in the hands.

 

Elaine wrote to ask whether it smells sheepy. Alas, I can’t answer. I’ve lost the sense of smell. Don’t recoil in horror – this happened a couple of years ago, at least, and can be given some sort of date by the fact that I couldn’t smell a thing when Archie and I visited the fish market in Catania in late ’18. I know the sheepy smell Elaine means, and I love it – but it causes her discomfort. I suspect the answer is no, no smell, but someone else will have to testify.

 

The Evendoon s top-down, and that means there are a lot of things to do, right at the beginning. I am feeling rather inadequate, but all is going well so far, I think. One has to maintain the stripe sequence while carrying out the other instructions, but goodness, I ought to be able to manage that. I don’t understand the next thing I have to do, a few rows ahead, but maybe it will be clear when I get there, and if not, there’s the Ravelry group, where lots of people have tackled it already.

 

One thing worries slightly: the neck ribbing isn’t done until the very end, and the written instruction for which colour to use for it is clearly wrong, judging from the pictures. (Mercifully, my printer has produced a perfect copy.) Are there other mistakes?

 

Thank you very much for your rant, Chloe. (Comments, yesterday) I think you may be on to something, in your idea that autumnal colours – which indeed I favour – are less congenial to white.

 

A feeble day, although I got around the garden with Helen. I cancelled my Italian lesson again. I resolve to do better.

 

I didn’t watch the debate last night, after all. I got up at 2:20 a.m., put on my spectacles, started to struggle with the sleeves of my bathrobe – and then decided to go back to bed. It doesn’t sound nearly as entertaining as the first one. I’m glad I saw that.

 

I’ve nearly finished my Trollope: “Is he Popenjay?” It remains entertaining to the end. He’s very good, amongst much else, at distinguishing characters. With other authors, I often use (and rejoice in) the Kindle search feature, which lets me quickly look back to the first appearance of a puzzling character. With Trollope that is never necessary. Perhaps because of publishing in installments?

It's terribly exciting, Linnell (comment yesterday), to hear that you know Hopper's gas station in real life.