A May day, it all its glory. It wasn't forecast, either. I got out and sat for a while on the step this morning, and as a result have knit only three rows of shawl border. The sun was too bright for outdoor knitting. Maybe I’ll attempt one more long row when I finish here. It was lovely sitting there and admiring my baby nasturtiums and watching the dog-walkers and the joggers and the neighbours go pasr. And looking longingly across to the garden.

 

My sister looks in on us here from time to time, or maybe daily. She’s something of a Biden fan, and disapproves of my disapproval of him. But even so I am going to mention it again, a propos his remarks yesterday in a fund-raising speech in New York, when he apparently said that he had been to Northern Ireland recently to “make sure the Brits didn’t screw around”. I buy a sweat shirt or tee shirt every four years, relating at least tangentially to the presidential election. One of them says “None of the above” and I think I’ll have to look for something similar for next year.

 

I made hollandaise sauce, fairly successfully. (It was a bit thin.) Then I got the asparagus out to cook it, and found to my horror that it came from Peru. It’s not that I was careless. I looked hard for country-of-origin when I was ordering it, and finally gave up and assumed it must be British since we are in mid-May. I’ve learned a valuable lesson. But I don’t think I have the strength to attempt another batch of hollandaise sauce. Next year, maybe.

 

Wordle: another toughie, although it’s a perfectly ordinary word. I scored five, along with Mark and Rachel. Alexander and Theo needed six. The star by a length was Roger, with three. Thomas and his mother Ketki were the fours. I think that’s everybody.