A fine day, but distinctly cold. C. came and we got over to the garden, where I sat for a while as she circumnavigated. It was early. The sun hadn’t reached the garden yet. I thought of the winter when my husband’s sister was dying – C.’s mother. The streets from here to her house run north-south and every journey was an ordeal of dazzling, blinding sunshine straight in one’s eyes. My eyes – he had given up driving by then.

 

Much of the rest of the day was spent in the kitchen (where it’s warm) with the cats. I got quite a bit of knitting done, but Perdita got to sleep on it for quite a while, too. The armholes are getting closer. I feel things will go faster once I get there, although there is no reason why that should be.

 

Wordle: This was a tough one, although I can’t quite see why. Ketki and I and Theo and Thomas all needed six. Mark was the star, with four. Alexander had five. Daughter-Rachel, Roger, and Granddaughter-Rachel all failed. We’ve never had so catastrophic a word – not even EPOXY.

 

Yesterday’s word was SNARL, and the excitement was that several of us (see yesterday) guessed SNARK which Wordle accepted. Surely it is an invention of Lewis Carroll’s, although that is nothing to hold against it. The only other possibility which has occurred to me so far is SNARE and by that stage in the game most if not all Wordlers would have eliminated E.