I’ve met my cat-carer and, as I expected, I feel a bit less panic-y. Archie came, we tottered around the garden (2270 steps), then I set him to gathering up the items on my to-pack list. All easy-peasy, and it is greatly satisfying to strike things off a list. The cats will be fine. My cleaner will come in a couple of times to deal with the litter tray. Archie will look in at least once. That would be enough to keep them alive, if worse came to worst. And it won’t.

 

The Majestic Line rang up this morning. Archie answered the phone. My heart sank – had Ms Sturgeon intervened at the last moment? But no, it was just a Bon Voyage call. It’s possible (given that C. and I were booked on a cruise leaving May 1 which was cancelled) that ours will be the first of the season for the Majestic Line.

 

Poor Paradox is in heat, It doesn’t happen often, with her. If only it weren’t for Covid, we could have a weekend in Rome (Paradox and I) for about what the services of a ginger tom would cost here, and then look forward to a drawer-ful of Italian kittens. My tutor says that there are plenty of gentleman cats able and willing, in Rome.

 

I’ve made some progress with the second Pairfect sock. The first half of such a sock is the fun bit, where you just sit back and let the yarn lead. Rib until the ribbing-colour gives out. Knit on until the ribbing-colour reappears. Make a heel. Then you have to give some thought to the foot you are knitting for. I’ve finished the initial ribbing, and done an inch or two beyond.

 

Reading

 

I’m enjoying the second book in Elizabeth Jane Howard’s Cazalet series, perhaps more than the first, although finding it increasingly difficult to grasp which couple are the parents of which children.  We’re now in the dreadful early days of WWII. My father’s father was the most recent immigrant among my four grandparents – I think he was brought as a baby from the Netherlands. I have a memory of visiting his widow, my grandmother, as Germany was over-running Holland – it didn’t take them long. My father was one of four brothers and memory suggests that there were at least three of them there, but that’s unlikely. I am probably remembering just my father and his brother Uncle Lee, hunched over the radio, listening to the news.

 

I remember, too, my parents talking about the war, in those pre-Pearl-Harbor days. I had a vague impression of the map of Europe (how?) and supposed that England occupied the space which is, in fact, France. I was quite surprised to discover, eventually, that it is just a miserable island in the North Sea. I was born in 1933.