A dull day, leaving us all feeling dull. Helen was here this morning, and for lunch, with an old friend from our Birmingham days. 

   I haven’t done much, but I did hunker down to the baby-knitting issue. As long as the gauge is roughly right, I figure, nothing else matters much when you’re knitting for the unborn. If it doesn’t fit this year, it’ll do fine next. I have ordered a couple of bizarrely expensive skeins from Stephen & Penelope.

   And I’ve gone on brooding about Jeremy Bamber. Even if he got a full-scale judicial review, which I think he deserves, he has amassed such a tsunami of evidence — he and his external supporters — that it is hard to see how it could be done.

   I napped today to a whole book on the subject, which so far is filling up space by taking us through the family history. The mother —one of the victims — was at least as unhinged as the daughter, hospitalised for substantial periods, electrotherapy. 

   Wordle: the old story. My starters yielded two green vowels. I thot of a possible for line three. Three greens now. I thought of another possible — not at all likely — for line four. It was right.

   Four, also, for Thomas, Ketki and Rachel. Three for Mark (again!), five for Alexander. Fours for both of the transatlantic contributors, Roger and Theo.