Sporting results: France beat Wales last night, as I hoped, but kick-off wasn’t until 8 p.m. so I didn’t watch any of it. Today, Scotland beat poor old Italy, again as hoped but it was a distinctly undistinguished performance. Then Ireland beat England – at Twickenham, which is always harder – in an epic match but I don’t love either team so watched with some indifference. I failed at Wordle again – no excuse. I nearly got there. I should have got there.

Next week -- the final week of this year's season -- Ireland will be here in Edinburgh and on today's form, they'll win; and England will play France, in Paris I think. That could be exciting.

 

It was another pleasant spring day. Archie and I got around the garden, and he harvested some wild garlic for me. But I can’t try it with the nduja until Monday because Daniela brought me some food and I had better eat that tomorrow. She doesn’t come on Sunday. Today I had mussels and linguine, Archie having brought me some mussels. I thought they ought to be consumed first.

 

And I haven’t attached those buttons to the Aroon jacket. I knit onwards with the Baby Surprise while watching rugby. I am beginning to be slightly anxious about whether my five graduated balls are going to be enough. There’s nothing like a bit of yarn-anxiety to spur one forward. And surely there must be something, in a house so well provided with knitting wool as this one, with which I can finish it off.

I see that I have made contradictory statements here on Thursday and Friday, about whether my spell-checker accepts "nduja".  The explanation is that Microsoft Word, in which I compose, is fine with it, but when I transfer the day's prose to Blogger, Blogger objects.