Another pleasant, sunny November day. Helen and I walked to the corner shop – almost as far, I think, as a circuit of the garden – because I needed ginger for some ramen I hope to make tomorrow. No knitting – this is appalling – but a new episode of the podcast Americast is up, and I hope to knit to it this evening.

 

So, what else has been happening? Kate Davies’ pattern this week is a terrific blanket, with stars. This year’s club really has been good value. I gather we’re near the end, and the book will be coming soon.

 

I’ve just watched Franklin’s video about a horizontal travelling stitch. The Dunfallandy blankie, in Knitty, had horizontal cables. I knit it for my first great-granddaughter.  I’ve completely forgotten how they were done. It might be worth looking back. Franklin is wonderful, as always.

 

Comments

 

How clever of you to get “Crape Myrtle” on Pointless yesterday, jean(fromcornwall)! Twice – or was there a third occasion? – I have thought of a pointless answer for the final – that’s over many years. One was to name a Cambridge college more than 200 years old, and I tried Rachel’s husband Ed’s college: Downing. And it was pointless. And once was Booker prize winners, and I thought of Anita Brookner, Hotel du Lac. Similarly, pointless. She was an art historian as well as a novelist, and a friend of my husband’s, so that was almost cheating. We were watching the ceremony on television the night she won. She gave a little start of surprise at the announcement, which was very touching. Everybody thought it was going to be David Lodge, that year.

 

Mary Lou, you have a treat in store, if you’ve never read “Scoop”.  You must tell me whether you agree with my identification of Lord Copper as Donald Trump.

 

I had a good Italian lesson this morning. At the end, my tutor wrote on the screen (this is Skype) some phrases from my clumsy conversation which had been wrong. They were easy enough to correct, when I saw them written down. That was a useful exercise, I think. I will write to tell her so tomorrow, and that, in itself, will be a useful exercise – writing is far harder than anything else. I am reading a rather good Italian thriller called “Almost Blue” by Carlo Lucarelli. Translation available: I think it would translate well. The title is in English, even in Italian, so to speak.