A dull day. I got around the garden.

 

I got the tinking done (see yesterday) and the second steek cast on. Then I sank back, exhausted. However, later in the day I discovered that the Calcutta Cup will actually be contested during the first week of February, the 5^th or so. I’d better get cracking. I could finish the vest off with ordinary ribbing instead of corrugated if need be: that would speed things up a bit.

 

Here is my salad factory at the end of week 3, under its eerie light. Basil, far left, was slow to start but is now moving along nicely. I messed around with Youtube a bit, and discovered that I am not expected to wait until I can replace all four lingots; I can take them out and slot in replacements whenever. It is sort of embarrassing not to have thought of that myself. Sometime in June I am supposed to take the whole thing apart and clean it. I want to grow chillies. There are two chilli lingots, cayenne and jalapeno, but both are “out of stock”, the only ones that are.  But perhaps by the time I need them…

 

Archie is doing – I think I probably told you – a degree course to become a mental health nurse. The first term was almost entirely on-line (and not very demanding), but now he has embarked on his first placement and is full of enthusiasm. He is attached to a community health ward at a hospital in Haddington. So far he is only shadowing real nurses, but he will be there six weeks and may become more engaged. It sounds potentially depressing – the patients are mostly if not all elderly and somewhat demented. He will come and see me one day next week when I hope to learn more.

 

Shandy (comment yesterday): tell me more about that art programme. My husband was at the Barber Institute in Birmingham, but there were no W*lkies there. There is no need to be coy about the Barber Institute. I spell “D*vid W*lkie” like that because I don’t want any scholars to search for him, and even perhaps add “Miles”, and wind up here. There are lots of interesting narrative W*lkies, and I would like to have heard the attempt to link them to the pandemic.

 

I’m getting on fine with teetotalism. The secret is simple: there is no cider in the house. There are enough spirits, mostly good whiskey, to provide a bath; and some wine and vermouth and what-not in the kitchen for cooking, but I am not even remotely tempted. So if I did weaken, it would take me 48 hours at least to lay in a supply. February, if I attempt four-days-dry-three-days-cider again, will be much harder.