I felt very odd yesterday – dizzy, and with my sight somewhat occluded, as if I were about to faint. I spent most of the day in bed, and ate little. I surprised myself by how close to “normal” I feel today – I didn’t think I had that much bounce-back-factor left. C. came, and we got once around the garden. 2648 steps – the telefonino is clearly in generous mood.

 

My tutor didn’t feel well, so we didn’t have an Italian lesson this morning. A great relief.

 

Helen’s husband David is presumably here, from Thessaloniki. We haven’t seen him for a long time – and I won’t for a while, as he self-isolates with his family. I have read horror stories in the paper recently of six-hour queues for immigration at Heathrow, because of all the Covid paperwork involved, and feared that he would miss the last train. But I had an email last night to say that he was on it, and it seems safe to assume that all is well.

 

I’ve heard from Jamieson & Smith – my order is on the way. They don’t hang about, up there in Lerwick. I ought to be calculating and charting wee Hamish’s vest, but I haven’t got beyond being glad that “1” takes up less space than any other digit (as in “21” which will appear next to my clumsy rendition of the cup).

 

I spent some useful time tidying piles of paper-magazines-books on the shelf underneath what might be grandly called the coffee table in the sitting room, in search of the four issues of Knitter’s from 2000 in which Meg elaborates the EPS sweater. I didn’t put them away as I should have, after the successful EPS recently knit. I found them all, and they are now on the shelf where they belong. I haven’t done any actual knitting.

 

I’ve finished “Wives and Daughters”. It sort of peters out, because Mrs Gaskell died, but not before the happy ending is clearly adumbrated. I do agree with you, Tamar, that such endings are essential, and I also liked your additional remark, that medical mysteries need to be solved. I have tentatively started, for the third or fourth time, reading “The Viceroys” in Italian. That sentence is ambiguous: I’ve never succeeded in finishing it. The idea would be to read a chapter in Italian and then listen to it with Audible, but Audible’s cleverness (see Thursday) makes this difficult. I could listen first and then read, but…

Happy Easter, everybody. We've earned it, I feel.