Another day of not-much, including no knitting. Archie came, and we got some things done including a hobble around the garden – I think I must have quite a good consecutive-day thing going at the moment, on that front. We mastered paying cheques into the bank via app -- that’s going to save a lot of trouble. And of course we’re all feeling more cheerful about the world, what with Trump letting Biden into the White House (so to speak) and the vaccine situation looking good. Rachel rang up and spoke rather fiercely about Christmas.

 

Comments

 

Cat, you could write to Harry and tell him that his mother was very kind to you. It must be hard indeed for them all, “The Crown”. On the whole, it does favour Charles, but it’s fairly hard on Diana, too – all that bulimia.

 

Thank you for observations about my feeble health. Tamar, that is a good idea – when are your ideas ever less than good? – about keeping a diary of food consumed and watching for matches with general sprightliness. Mary Lou, I’m pretty sure I’m sleeping all right. I get up to pee a lot, but am out like a light when head strikes pillow. Paradox is almost always there, at the foot of the bed, and it is a comfort to see her. And I must tell you, although this is not strictly relevant, that it is a blessing consciously appreciated every night as I slip between the sheets, that I am not going to have to get up to look after anyone, neither a baby nor a husband; nor will I have to lie awake worrying about an errant adolescent.