It has been a beautiful summer’s day, with just a whisper of coolth. It will be interesting to see if any of the US East Coast heat makes its way here in a week or so. I walked around the garden early on, on my own, so that Archie and I could get down to some much-needed paper work when he finally turned up. It’s one of those days when the app refuses to give me proper credit – only 1960 steps, it says.

 

The paper work produced a problem you may be able to help me with. I have a letter from GMC publications (dated more than a month ago, I am afraid), saying that they will no longer be looking after subscriptions for Designer Knitting. For some unfathomable reason, VK goes by that name here in the UK. The last issue GMC will send out will be autumn of this year. So far so good.

 

Then they say: “After this date you will be sent copies of Knitting magazine on a monthly basis until your subscription expires.”

 

“Knitting” is a completely different magazine – a monthly, as implied.

 

Maybe this means that GMC is giving up both magazines (for I do, indeed, subscribe to “Knitting”). It is important to me to go on subscribing to VK (under whatever name). There is an email address, a phone number, and a website in the letter, but somehow the effort of pursuing any one of them feels like too much. I would be very grateful for any comments.

 

The interminable sock is, again, slightly forward. 50 rounds.

 

And Wimbledon continues to be entertaining. In 2018 – I’m sure you’ve heard this, probably several times – Rachel won tickets to the centre court on Men’s Semi-Final day. “Winning” in this case means that she won the opportunity to buy the tickets, at very considerable expense. She invited me to come with her. So as soon as my first Majestic Line cruise was over, that summer, I sped to London. I must have been stronger then than I am now. On the cruise, everybody – even the Americans – were transfixed by the World Cup. All I cared about was the tennis – would Federer be playing in the semi-finals? Alas, he fell at the preceding hurdle.

 

And what happened that day was the most boring match in the history of Wimbledon. They have changed the rules since, so that it can’t happen again.

 

I mention this here because both of the men responsible for our dreadful afternoon lost their matches yesterday in straight sets. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.