Sunday, February 26, 2023


France won. It was a thrilling match.


Tomorrow is Alexander’s sixty-somethingth birthday. I’m sure I tell you every year that he was born in a Leap Year. If he had held out for another 48 hours, as I very much hoped he would – his official “due date” wasn’t until March 4 or 5, I think – he would only be 15 ¾, and we could have named him Frederick, after the hero of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Pirates of Penzance”.


Not much knitting today. The m**hs have been in my new colour and solutions would have been too fiddly to combine with the rugby. I’m still doing the second pattern round of Old Shale in the centre of my hap. The end is in sight, and the stitch count is pretty good. Each of the four sides works separately, so to speak. So if something is off in one of them, it doesn’t mean that there’ll be trouble in the next one.


Helen and David nipped up to Kirkmichael yesterday, to confer with our neighbour about the state of our driveway which edges a field belonging to them. It sounds as if all will be well. There is no way in or out of our house except over their land. I increasingly feel as the years pass that the solicitor who acted for us when we bought the house in 1964 should have ensured that we had a legal right of way somewhere or other. It would have saved us a lot of money and a lot of anguish in subsequent years. Newspapers are full almost daily of heart-rending tales of people who wind up in court because they can’t agree with their neighbours about driveways or trees or fences or Japanese knotweed.


Wordle: five for me today, the class dunce. I moved too fast. The starter words gave me three browns, a vowel and two consonants. I typed in Jean-words for lines three and four, without meaning to. Line three omitted one of the browns. Line four – really rather a good one, I thought – had all the right letters, but two of them were in places I knew perfectly well they weren’t allowed to occupy.


Threes and fours elsewhere, except for my daughter Rachel who scored a brilliant two. Theo is back: he was one of the threes. He slid in late yesterday – after I had marked him absent – with a five.


  1. Mary Lou7:07 PM

    Is it too late to rectify the solicitor's error? Lack of legal access can end up in a mess, certainly. Sorry about the m**ths. That a good reminder for me to toss the bins when we get a nice day.

  2. =Tamar8:35 AM

    The Yarn Harlot's treatment for moths is, if I recall correctly, to microwave each skein for 5 seconds, then freeze for three days, then remove and wrap in clear plastic and let warm up 3 days, then repeat just in case something hatched. The plastic is for containment.

    Good luck with the right of way. Is it too late to buy the access? It would add significantly to the value.

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