I’m afraid I’ve pretty well given up on 2021. Our statistics are worse than ever today. If your husband enjoys gloomy numbers, Mary Lou, he should have a look. The prospect of bringing them down with either the new lockdown or vaccination seems increasingly remote. There’s not a sunny upland in sight. What we hoped was the light at the end of the tunnel has proved to be New Jersey.

 

All is well here, however, for the time being. The weather was gloomy and unappetising, but above freezing, and Helen and I had a good walk. I did my 2000 steps. I also finished knitting the central square of Gudrun’s hap, and slid a needle through the loops all around. (Every row begins with a YO.) It wasn’t quite as easy as it sounds, but not bad, and I think the numbers are right. Now to start knitting. Like last time I am going to bite the bullet and purl alternate rounds, in order to keep everything in garter stitch. The alternative would be to leave one corner open, and knit back and forth, but purling will be neater. The borders are not very wide, as borders go.

 

I also made sourdough, all except for baking it which is done first thing the following morning. This loaf is for me. I have a sudden hankering for scrambled eggs on toast, or a smashed avocado.

 

I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for news from Georgia.

 

Reading

 

I’m drifting, again. Mary Lou, I am happy to have introduced you to Alice Thomas Ellis. Like you, I have never read a syllable of Beryl Bainbridge, and am convinced I wouldn’t like her. Why? Kirsten, I quite enjoyed “On Chapel Sands”. If you had a Kindle, you wouldn’t have to move books from one place to another. You could just read a few pages and drift away, as I’m afraid I not infrequently do. I’ve never read “The Hare with Amber Eyes” although I think I’ve heard of it.