I’m just back from an MRI scan. Nothing to fuss about, but going anywhere provokes a certain amount of nervous strain these days. C. came with me. Her friend Ian, last seen driving us to and from Oban when we went on our cruises last year, drove us to the hospital and back. The appt was on time, and the procedure was next thing to trivial. Nevertheless I feel completely bushed and will soon go to bed. It’s such a nice feeling, not to have an appointment tomorrow.

 

Legwarmer-knitting has gone forward nicely. The new needles make it almost fun. I’m well-advanced with Chart B: Leg Shaping.

The weather continues chilly. Indeed we had some snow flurries this afternoon. But we don't call this cold in Quebec -- punch-line of a limerick* I'm fond of -- and Alexander and I got around the garden in good order this morning.

 

Wordle

 

The funny thing about yesterday is that Alexander wasted a guess on SHAWL, like several of you. I didn’t even think of it until afterwards. I got it in my usual five today. It was Ketki who scored the three.

*There was a young man of Quebec

  Who fell through the ice up to his neck.

       When they said, "Is you friz?"

       He replied, "Yes, I is,

  But we don't call this cold in Quebec."