It’s cold. Now that I’ve stopped putting the heat on when I get up in the morning, I have managed not to start again. But I may not be able to resist much longer if it goes on like this.

 

Life is back in full swing. TGIM has long been my battle-cry. The Japanese clock man is back at work in the dining room. Archie came, in between shifts (he is acting as companion and support to autistic men), and we cooked a Mindful Chef lunch, me chopping, he stirring. It’s fun. I hope I can do it again with my sister when she and Roger are here at the end of June.

 

And I’m back on track with the knitting, after yesterday’s lapse. I should finish the ninth repeat (of fourteen) this evening, in the centre of the new baby shawl.

 

Archie and I talked a bit about hip surgery. I fear it as I do death itself, and he had some interesting observations to make. The conversation in itself was helpful. Helen rang the hospital this morning, and I seem to have moved up the list. It might be as soon as July.

 

Wordle: Four for me today. My starters gave me three browns, and I very quickly thought of a qualifying word, despite my aversion to anagrams – but it was wrong. All it did was turn one of the browns, green. I got the answer not much later, after a bit of a struggle. I was the first to post, and for a while it looked as if everybody was going to get four today which would have been rather fun. But poor Thomas needed five and Theo, blast him, posted a three