May Day. Grey and dull. Will this never end? Tomorrow we are going to have a lesson in getting up and down the six front steps in my new, expensive magic stair-climbing wheelchair. Once that has been achieved I can go across to the garden.

Not much knitting. Such as there was, straightforward. I finished reading “Death of a Ghost” and now must switch to something completely different until KD’s club actually starts.

Helen came for a while this morning. It’s wonderful having her back from Kirkmichael. She couldn’t find the trowel to perform a necessary operation on the doorstep, namely potting on some sweet peas that I’ve grown indoors. Home looks familiar, as I sit here in my wheelchair, but other people are operating it and I don’t know where they have put my trowel.

Another thing I have grown indoors is tomatoes. They are coming into flower. The RHS and Alexander agree that I don’t have to worry about pollinating them. I have recently started some chilli seeds in my salad factory but they are disappointingly slow to do anything.

Wordle: three for me. The procedure is the same every day. My two starters, TRAIN and HOUSE. Then an agonising struggle, usually, to think of any word that fits the result. I don’t allow myself a Jean-word unless it’s getting near lunch-time and I’m desperate. Sometimes, like today, line three is right. More often it isn’t. Today I had the glory of being the only cis-Atlantic three. Four for Ketki, Rachel and Mark; five for Alexander and his son Thomas. C. was here this morning — she was another three, and we enjoyed feeling a bit smug together.

  Now Roger has logged in from DC with yet another three. No news from Theo.

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