A sad day. Helen and her family have lost their dear Athenian dog, Farouk. He was old. The end was near. They are deeply distressed. And it must be worse when you have to issue the order of release yourself. I’ve never had to do that. My husband and I sat with our Old Dear Cat in Kirkmichael while she died. And then we didn’t get another one until Perdita. How short that makes life seem.

Helen and Archie are on their way to Kirkmichael for the interment. They stopped here to tell me.

   A sad day, too, because sister-Helen and Roger are (effectively) gone. They came to see me this morning  She is recovering from  a cold and Covid. Roger is fine — he has been all along. They sat on the other side of the room and talked through masks so it wasn’t much of a meeting.

   It wasn’t much of a day otherwise, either. Grey and chilly. I thought I could knit endlessly on the EPS mentioned in the sidebar, but it turns out that the bottom-hem-to-armpit section is pretty nearly — or perhaps entirely — finished and I didn’t feel up to calculation. Meg wrote articles in four successive issues of Knitter’s long ago now, which I have saved and treasured, amplifying and expanding her mother’s pattern.

   (Were those articles ever reproduced by the Schoolhouse Press?)

  So I will be glad tomorrow to have the next clue for the Allingham MKAL. And I’m glad to have my dear, disagreeable cat and I hope she survives me.

   Wordle: yet another stinker; yet another six for me. Again I stuck faithfully to legitimate, possible words and again the practice served me well.

    Today’s stars were Roger and Mark with four. Rachel and Ketki were with me on six. Alexander and Thomas and Theo scored five. (Obviously, not as easy one.) (I’m happy to be able to report that Roger was basking in  his four when he was here this morning.)