Filthy weather, spitting sleet at the windows. However, it was perhaps a degree or two warmer and I may be an inch or two better, despite the lack of new medication.

   Knitting went well. I have finished the first ball of yarn — measurable progress. The row is now very long, but  it is a considerable comfort that nothing will have to be repeated — I am knitting the whole thing, neck down. And the bit where I leave the shoulder/sleeve stitches behind is now within sight. And the dropped shoulders are pretty low. Lots to be cheerful about.

  Anonymous (yesterday): C. Is my niece Clare. My husband’s niece, strictly — his only sister’s daughter. She has been as a daughter to me since her mother died, a good many years ago now.

  Have I told you about our carriage clock? Wafa found the key. Many years ago, when we lived in Birmingham, we had a bad burglary. That clock went, although the key was left behind. Many months later I saw it in the window of a jeweller in the city centre.

  It was all rather like the evidences for God in Newman’s Grammar of Assent. I couldn’t prove it was our clock. But it said “Edinburgh” on the front — my husband had inherited it from his Edinburgh grandfather. And it had a  honest Arabic face — the vast majority of such clocks have Roman numerals.

  And the clincher was when I went in and bought it. It had been supplied with a clumsy modern key, which I left behind in the shop, knowing that the key left behind by the burglars would fit. So I was particularly distressed recently when the key couldn’t be found, and particularly pleased the other day when Wafa found it. 

  Wordle: I was the only three. No glory in that — Alexander scored two. Thomas and his mother Ketki and Rachel had fours. Mark lagged behind with five. Roger and Theo in DC were both four. (C. is a fairly faithful Wordle-doer but not  member of our little group.)