Another day of non-achievement. There’s still time for a bit of knitting. Grey and cold.

   Mysteriouser and mysteriouser, when it comes to the Royal Family. Or is it just that they’ve got accessibility wrong? I wasn’t happy with that now-infamous Mother ‘s Day picture from the beginning, not for any of the real reasons but because it looked to me as if mother and children were smiling on different occasions. That could have been because she is a grown-up (and not very well). It’s encouraging, I guess, that she feels well enough to take on some photo-shopping.

   Wordle: I struggled this morning, resorted to a Jean-word (= couldn’t possibly be right) for line four, got it in five. All the other players on this side of the pond scored four. In DC, Theo was another four and Roger, as often, hasn’t been heard from yet. Whatever he regularly does first thing in the morning, it isn’t Wordle.

   

 Yesterday was rugby again, as you may well have guessed. Scotland were beaten by Italy in Rome. An exciting match, and a victory it was difficult to begrudge them. England beat Ireland in London, another thriller. They are surely the only two of the Six Nations who have fired real bullets at each other in relatively recent years.

  The other Nations are Scotland, Wales, France and Italy.

   Today’s match was France against Wales, in Wales. France won. That was a good one, too, until France pulled away in the last ten minutes.

   Next weekend we play Ireland and are very likely to get beaten. Then it’s over for another year. 

   Helen came to lunch. Fortunately I had a Mindful Chef vegetarian number on hand.

   Knitting progressed somewhat, but much of the time was spent winding the next ball. Still, that’s progress.

   Wordle: We were spread about a bit today.  Thomas and Rachel were the stars, with two.  Roger, Alexander and Mark scored three. Theo and I had fours. Poor Ketki crept home with a five.

   One mildly interesting thing is that Thomas and Ketki and I had no browns, throughout the game. I don’t remember that ever happening before.

 Another grey, chill day. The knitting has advanced. I’m pretty sure the Calcutta Cup bit is somehow reversed. Helen thinks so, at first glance. (When she is designing a mosaic, she uses a transparent paper. When the design is ready, she can just turn it over.)

  But she also thought I could just go ahead. She thinks the result will be rather entertaining. I still don’t know what I expect. The Cup will be OK — it’s symmetrical, as rendered in knitting. And everything will be the right way up. Mirror-image? for the numbers. I’ll keep you posted.

Hilde (comment yesterday) : That’s what I’m doing, knitting the usual Calcutta Cup pattern upside down. I don’t at all understand where the difficulty comes from. 

 I spent some time on a grocery order. Waitrose is out of globe artichokes! Springtime couldn’t be over in the Mediterranean quite yet!

Commenters asked yesterday about the change of carers. That’s the way this firm does it, two weeks on and two weeks off for everybody. It makes sense, and I like both of my two. I miss Wafa — she and I were working on a system where she could stay here most of the time. But everybody else thought she was encroaching too much and moved in without my prior knowledge to send her away. 

Wordle:  Most of us had four today. I scored a doltish five, Rachel a smart three.Theo, in DC, was another three and, as not infrequently, we haven’t heard from his father Roger yet. 

 I did at least some knitting. I became completely convinced that the Calcutta Cup was backwards — although not upside down. Could it just remain backwards? Not if the digits in “24” were reversed. I was on the point of ripping back when I began to doubt myself. I’ll tackle it in the morning tomorrow, when I’m brighter, and I’ll also ask Helen who must encounter analogous problems in mosaic-making.

   Otherwise there is little to report. We had the fortnightly carer turnover. It went peacefully. But still made the day a bit stressful.

   Helen was here this morning, tidying up after recent mosaic-making. The vital delete key on her laptop computer seems to have put itself right (see Tuesday). She is trying to organise my well-meaning but somewhat feckless carers into taking better care of the house. They ought to, for what we pay. They take good care of me — no difficulty there. 

  Wordle: another day without much spread. Here in Britain, Thomas scored a dazzling two. Alexander, Mark, Rachel and I had three. Four for Ketki.  In DC, Theo had another three, and Roger another dazzling two. 

 

Grey, chilly. I got a bit of knitting done, and continue to be satisfied that I’ve got the Calcutta Cup the right way around. Another day’s work should make it certain, if I can ever persuade myself to do another day’s work. 

Thanks for interesting remarks about. wellingtonias. I assume they’re called that here in honour of the greatest 19th century Englishman. I was particularly interested in your news, Mary Lou, that they won’t “do” where you are. Strathardle is pretty cold, but the show garden attached to a big house further up the glen (=colder) has a successful one. So does the Edinburgh Botanic Gardens. Ours has only been in a year, and is very happy, I think. I’ll get Helen to take a picture the next time she is there.

   You suggest an interesting addition to my food list of yesterday, Tamar: namely rhubarb. I love it. How did I ever taste it? We never had it at home, nor at Oberlin, and I sailed off to Glasgow assuming it was a rare and expensive growth like artichokes. (It grows almost like a weed.) 

   I don’t eat it nowadays because I try to avoid sugar. And for 2024 I fear I have already missed its best moment — the forced rhubarb of Jan and Feb. It will be available here in some form all year round, always pretty cheap. I was interested in your remark that it is not always available in US supermarkets.

  Wordle: The British contingent was evenly split between threes and fours — I was a three. In DC, Theo was another four, and his father Roger flattened us all with a two. 

 Bright and sunny but still cold. Helen has finished her mosaic but now finds that the Delete key on her portable computer doesn’t work so she has rushed up the hill to Apple in the hopes of being able to deal with some of the administration that has been piling up while she made the mosaic.

   I haven’t done any more knitting. This is bad.

   I have been thinking about the delicious things that go in and out of season, especially this time of year, and are so easily overlooked when you shop on-line.

   1) marmalade oranges. I think I’ve missed them for this year. I don’t want to make marmalade but I would like to use the juice instead of lemon juice for a happy week or two.

   2) globe artichokes.They are currently in season around the Mediterranean and I love them above all else.

   3) local asparagus. It will be with us in a moment. It grew abundantly in the grandparents’ gardens of my childhood and was cooked to death and I never suspected that there was anything special about it until middle age was fairly advanced.

   4) sweet corn. I mention this simply honoris causa. I will never taste it again, as it should be, within hours of picking. The last time I was in the US, for nephew Theo’s wonderful wedding, Hellie Ogden and I got there fairly late after a long hard day. I don’t remember why I should have been helping in the kitchen, but I do remember that the outside rubbish bin was nearly full of corn husks — from the day before. I got that close. 

  Wordle: I got a creditable four. Roger and Theo both failed, stuck as I was two days ago with four greens and the first letter to be filled in and too many possibilities. 

   Mark and Rachel had six, Ketki five, same problem. Alexander and Thomas had four, like me, and like me came at the problem from a different direction. My starters gave me a green in the first position so I was spared that hopeless guessing. 

 

 I think I feel a bit better today — and I have started the long climb back towards my Wordle winning streak. The next excitement will be in May, if I get that far. See below.

  I’ve started knitting the Calcutta Cup, and so far I think I’m knitting it the right way up and the right way around.

  Helen has been working here all day again. She says she is getting on well. Through her agency, a device for getting a wheelchair up and down our outdoor stairs (of which we have six) will be demonstrated to us on Wednesday. That’s an exciting prospect, as the days lengthen.

  I am reading Lucy Worsley’s biography of Agatha Christie, and would recommend it. One of the ladies who came to tea last Friday (was it?) brought it to me. I was interested to learn that there was a Wellingtonia in the garden where she grew up. I am devoted to that tree and have recently had one planted in Kirkmichael. The first seeds were brought to GB in the mid-nineteenth century, so little Agatha’s tree may have been one of the very first crop. Lucy W. went to the spot where the house had been — it is safe to deduce that there is no Wellingtonia there now. (Wellingtonia = California redwood)

   Wordle: I scored four. My starters gave me two green vowels. My first guess — line three — made it four greens and I thought, here we go again. But perhaps there were fewer options today. At any event, line four was right.

  The rest of us were spread all over the place. Roger was the only other four. Theo, Mark, Alexander and Ketki scored threes — the majority score. Poor Rachel took five, and today’s genius (as often) was Thomas with two.

 I failed at Wordle today. Details below.

 I continue to feel somewhat subdued (although I think the failure at Wordle was just bad luck). 

  I got a bit of knitting done, but have paused. I’m knitting top-down, as you know, and trying to insert the Calcutta Cup and the date into a broad st st panel at navel height in the Spalding pattern. Once I get the pattern correctly established, the rest will be straightforward. But I’m not at all sure I have done that. It not only has to be the right way up, but also the right way around. See the baby blanket above for the parameters of the problem. 

  C. came to see me this morning. 

  Wordle: Lying in bed last night, I had a premonition of how my winning streak would end — and sure enough, I was right. My starters gave me two greens and two browns. My line three turned the browns green. Line four, line five and even line six went on guessing that fourth letter in vain.

   Theo, Ketki and Thomas all had similar difficulty, but weren’t nearly as inventive as I was — or much luckier — and escaped with fives.  Alexander was there too but managed a four. Mark was another five, but his problem was the second letter, not the fourth. 

   Roger did it in three, and Rachel — how  on earth? — in only two.

 I’m feeling a bit subdued, as for the last couple of days. No symptoms, no excuse. No knitting, either. I have always rejoiced in having a hobby that could follow me so far along the downward slope. I hope this doesn’t mean I’ve hit bottom.  I’m ready to start knitting the Calcutta Cup into the Spalding sweater.  Chart updated, stitches counted.

    Helen has been here again, and got some indoor gardening done. The  sweet peas in my salad machine were already getting too tall and floppy. They each now have their own pot.  Helen hopes to grow them to maturity indoors. She says our sunny doorstep is too windy. I’m dubious.

   Wordle: a three for me at last. I’ve now got a winning streak of 60 in pursuit of a maximum streak of 67. Getting scary.

   Four was the majority score today —  Mark and Theo joined me with 3; Rachel needed 5

 Not time for much. We’ve had visitors. I’m exhausted.

 Thomas Kingston committed suicide. There were hints in some of yesterday’s reports.

  I was going to suggest to you that Israel seems to be working for Trump’s re-election. Then today I read that Trump and Netanyahu are pals. Maybe it’s true. Maybe Netanyahu is pushing Biden for every bullet and drone he can get, in the happy knowledge that he is making his re-election ever less certain. 

  Mostly threes and fours for Wordle today. Ketki and I both scored five. I found it very difficult and was delighted with my five. 

   

I’m back in the sitting room, poking away with one finger again. I’ve been sleepy.

   Happy Leap Day to us all!

   The newspapers are full of reports of Tom Kingston’s sudden and unexpected death (husband of minor Royal Lady Gabriella, daughter of Prince and Princess Michael of Kent). Presumably we will know more eventually. One source — I’ve now forgotten which — specifically said that Prince William’s sudden and unexpected withdrawal from his godfather’s memorial service yesterday was not linked.

   Otherwise I have little to report. Archie came to see me. Helen has been here. My watch gave up the ghost and my current carer went down to Tesco to buy a new battery for it. It was so expensive that I fear we are approaching the moment when we throw away a watch that needs a new battery. I can remember the days when an electronic watch with 100% accuracy (with an honest Arabic face) — which is what I wear — cost rather a lot. There was something called an Accutron.

    No knitting. But a new needle has arrived in the post. I had the right gauge in one that was uncomfortably long and one that was uncomfortably short. I hope I’ve got it right this time.

  Wordle: a three, at last, for me. And for Alexander and for Mark and for Theo. Four for Rachel and Roger. Five for Ketki. Uncharacteristic silence for Thomas.

 

This is a departure. I’m back in the Catalogue Room, trying to write to you on my aged mobile computer. After all these weeks, it seems slower and stiffer even than I am, and (so far) I can’t load Freecell. I always liked to start with a couple of hands of that. It’s bliss to be back to an actual keyboard.

      Not much to report, either. I’ve successfully plotted “TheCalcuttaCup ‘24” and done a bit more knitting. I think I’m nearly ready to plunge in, and have decided to knit the motif only once, and to keep the knitting circular by cutting the contrast yarn after every row.

     I’m feeling a certain amount of mental sludge. Hard to express, but a sudden awareness of diminishing acuity.

    Comments: You may well be right, Catdownunder, that Prince William was absent from his godfather’ memorial service because of the sudden death of Thomas Kingston. How is he (Prince William) related to Lady Gabriella? (This will sound like gibberish. See yesterday’s comment for a starter.) My mother was brilliant at relationships and could spot a second cousin twice removed at fifty paces. I enjoy it, but can’t, in this case, be bothered to figure out exactly where Prince and Princess Michael of Kent fit into the scheme of things.

    The whole point of being back here in the catalogue room is to show you pictures. I’ll skip great-grandchildren for the moment to show you snowdrops from Helen’s recent visit to Burnside.

   And a picture of Paradox having a nap in her new home in the south of England. There is no doubt that both she and Perdita are much happier cats now that there are hundreds of miles between them.

   Wordle: another day of predominantly fours. Alexander had a five (I didn’t think it was all that easy, either) and Mark a three. Theo was another four, in DC, and, as has happened before, we haven’t heard from Roger yet.

 Helen is working here again today. We had lunch together and discussed, as one does, Prince William’s last-minute withdrawal from his godfather’s memorial service. Royals don’t do that sort of thing. Helen didn’t know, not being interested in rugby, that Princess Anne had missed the Calcutta Cup.

  We were alarmed. On the other hand both Princess Anne and the Queen were present at the memorial service, so there is probably no alarming conclusion to be drawn.

  Helen took me on a wheelchair tour of the house this morning. I didn’t find “the book I think I need” (see yesterday) but I did find a book of knitting-shaped graph paper, and my chart for 2004, which gave me a needed 2. Nowadays I do the date in the form ‘24 and so forth, so recent 2’s were in short supply. I could wing it, for 4.

   (That doesn't entirely make sense. But I couldn’t find my charts from any of the last three years.)

   So this year’s chart is ready. I’ll do a bit more round-and-round st st and then launch into it.

   Wordle: Roger scored five today. Everybody else had four. We are getting more uniform, lłl

 I was puzzled about Princess Anne too, Chloe (comment yesterday). She was presumably kept away from the Calcutta Cup match by family or general royal duties. Or maybe she just had a cold. We’ll never know. I know she will have been sorry not to be there.

  If you’re at all interested, follow up Maureen in Fargo’s comment yesterday, pointing to the blog entry where there is a picture of me holding up my knitting to the Cup Itself and also other Cup-related and  knitting-related pictures. Thanks, Maureen.

  For ‘24, I plan to put the Cup and date in that navel-level stretch of plain vanilla st st which I have just reached in the Spalding sweater (Brooklyn Tweed) (which is knit top-down). I have been much frustrated today in not being able to WALK around the house to find the book I think I need to make a chart for “ ‘24”. I know what it looks like. I know where it should be. I can’t remember what it’s called. Appreciate walking while you can, those of you who can still do it.

Wordle: I cancelled my NYT subscription yesterday — WordleBot wasn’t worth it. I was anxious lest they would strip me of my winning streak. But they didn’t. I am currently 55, hoping to get past my all-time-high of 67. 

  Threes and fours today. I was a three, I am pleased to report. In DC, it  was three for Theo and four for his father Roger. Over here, Ketki and I were the threes. Thomas hasn’t been heard from yet.

 Princess Anne wasn’t there yesterday, to see Scotland win a 4th successive Calcutta Cup. She is patron of Scottish rugby, and a most devoted and enthusiastic one over many years. She wouldn’t have stayed away in favour of toasted cheese by the fire.

Since  I am being so feeble about illustration, please look the Cup up in Wikipedia or somewhere. It’s rather beautiful. It is close to being the oldest sporting trophy in circulation. It was made in Calcutta of silver melted down from rupees remaining to a British regimental rugby club, and has been awarded to England or Scotland, as appropriate, after the annual match ever since.

I went to see it once, taking a tour of Murrayfield while it was here. Somewhere there is a picture of me holding up some of my Calcutta Cup knitting next to the Real Thing. I sought in vain for that picture this morning. Nowadays there is a duplicate cup which lives at the loser’s stadium. When we were being shewn around at Murrayfield we were told that the only perceptible difference is the slightly darker colour of the Real Thing.

I first incorporated it into knitting into a Christening shawl for Kirsty Miles, James’ and Cathy’s daughter. That was for a great triumph, in the year 2000. Scotland had lost every game, even against Italy. England had won all of hers. A former Scotland coach, Ian McGheechan, remarked at the time, “They won the Six Nations. We won the Calcutta Cup. Everybody’s happy.”

And I’ve knit it ever since. You can see last year’s effort in the picture above. I’ll hope to tell you about this year’s tomorrow. But I never expected victories to come so thick and fast. 

Wordle: ALL six British-based scored four today. Theo had three, and we haven’t heard from Roger.  My winning streak is up to 54. My max was 67. So it’s getting scary. 

 We won. I think I heard the television say that the last time Scotland won four Calcutta Cups in a row was in the late 19th century. I’ll try to tell you more about it tomorrow, including plans for the knitting.

 Cold out there. We have had a peaceful day, Helen toiling away in the study. She brought me two delicious purple artichokes from Valvona and Crolla this morning. Both have been consumed.

   Attention is being given to access and to aching hip. Thank you for your comments. I think I’ll tell Archie to bring me some gummies.

   No knitting so far, and no reading even.  What have I been doing all day? Dozing. 

   Wordle: threes and fours today. The British contingent divided on gender lines — that was neat. Threes for Thomas, Alexander and Mark. Fours for the rest of us. In DC, Theo was the three and Roger the four.

 It’s still a bit too cold to venture back into the Catalogue Room. Maybe someone younger, indeed, could teach me to move pics from here on the iPad to here on the blog. Helen sent a beautiful one this morning, of snowdrops abundantly blooming and daffodils pushing forward in the lawn in front of our house in Kirkmichael. 

  (Step inside the fence in the picture to the right, angle the camera a bit more to the left, cutting out the house. Trees and sunshine and snowdrops.)

  The carer and I have had a good day recovering equilibrium. The trouble with yesterday, apart from disappointment, is that we were instructed to be ready three hours before the appointment hour. Since the appt was for 3 p.m., that spoiled lunchtime. At one point during the afternoon Helen got them on the phone and they said they were 10 minutes away. I put my coat on and got into my wheelchair.

  Today Archie came and I fed him lunch. He was a bit low. I have passed on your comments about “gummies” (blog and comments yesterday). We’ve sort of concluded that I must ask my GP. 

  Knitting progresses. I have wound the new ball, for the waistband, and found a circular needle of the right size. There are still a few more stitches to do before launching into it. What if I don’t have enough of the toning shade?

  Wordle: my starters gave me two greens and a brown. Looking at my grid now, in the shades of evening, it’s hard to see why I didn’t score three. But I managed to think of an odd word which qualified butcwas wrong, Four for me.

  Ketki and Thomas joined me there. Threes for Rachel and Alexander and Mark. Roger and Theo both posted four. That’s some comfort.

  

 The ambulance didn’t turn up. (See yesterday.) Three people’s day close to ruined — mine and Helen’s and my carer’s. Not to mention the hospital slot wasted. If we ever get another one, we’ll have to go by taxi and that means we’ll have to figure out how to get down those six steps.

  It looks like quite a nice day out there, too. I'm sorry to have missed it. 

  Helen’s youngest son, Fergus, was here for a while this morning. He is about to go off to do a four-day induction test for Sandhurst — that is, to be accepted to be trained to be an army officer, the four days of testing being physical and mental and psychological. I’d take Fergus if I were the British army.

  My hip grows more and more uncomfortable. Archie is coming tomorrow to advise on medical marijuana, widely available in Scotland but is it wise? 

  There was no Six-Nations rugby last weekend, as you must have guessed if you have the slightest interest. Calcutta Cup coming up on Saturday, here in Edinburgh (which improves our chances). That means the annual match against England. 

  And I knit a bit further forward, amidst all the tension and increasing gloom. 

    Wordle: I scored four today, along with Thomas and Alexander. Five for Rachel and Mark. A brilliant three for Ketki. In DC, it was three for Theo and four for Roger.

  My maximum winning streak, long ago, was 67. I’m now back up to 50, I think probably the second-best streak. It adds to the daily excitement.

  

 Another pleasant day, judged from in here. And tomorrow — excitement! — I will go out. I have an appointment at a hospital for advice on wheelchairs, much needed. The trouble is, we have elected to go by ambulance which has meant booking a time slot a whole three hours before the appt. And then home again? The appt itself, at 3pm, will last about an hour. Perhaps they can also advise on getting down and up my six front steps. I’ll certainty ask. 

 I’ll tell you all about it in due course.

  And once tomorrow’s adventure is behind me, I firmly resolve to get into the Catalogue Room after breakfast and boot up my laptop and send you some pictures. The current time of day, when I usually write,  is too late for picture-sending; I have drooped too far.

  Knitting has progressed. I still need three more visible stitches — six more actual rounds — before starting the welt. It feels endless. The “new” ball looks somewhat diminished, I tell myself.

  Wordle: I crawled home with five again, and for the same reason as yesterday: my two starters and my first guess got me to line three, with four greens. In line I four guessed wrong again about the missing letter.

Thomas, Ketki, Mark and Rachel got three. Alexander four. Roger in DC was another three. No news from Theo yet, unusually. Is it all luck, or do I need to re-think my starters?

  

  

  

 Another reasonable day — a bit less wonderful, weather-wise, but still pretty good. Helen has been working here all day — that’s always nice, even though we never meet. An old internet-blog friend came to see me and I disgraced myself by a major failing of memory. But we had a nice time, even so.

  And I did some knitting. When I achieve the desired length with this half-brioche for the body, I switch to a smaller-gauge needle and carry straight on with the st st  welt in a toning shade. There’s nothing in that prospect to slow me down. Then sleeves. But the shoulders are sufficiently dropped that that is not a terrifying prospect either. The broad st st neckband is very important.

   Thank you for “Black Lamb Grey Falcon” — comments yesterday. I’ve added it to my list. And for the encouraging remarks about Chinese vegetarian food. And about Lourdes. I remain very conflicted about that last one. A last chance to travel? I’ve got to decide any minute now. 

  Wordle: we were much divided today. I scored a dismal five. I got stuck with four greens, missing the fourth letter. The other poor scores —Rachel, six; Theo and Mark, five — had the same configuration. So did Roger, but he managed to wriggle out in four.

   Both Alexander and his wife Ketki scored two; their son Thomas, three. 

   

   

 Another pleasant spring day. Maybe we’re getting somewhere.

  Clare came this morning. We thought about going on the parish trip to Toulouse and Lourdes at the end of May. People would have to put up with me as part of their Christian (and Lourdes-focused) duty, but I fear it would be too much for them. Especially when it got to the nitty-gritty aspects of the commode. 

   Later in the day I thought about buying “Vegan Chinese Food”. I may still come around to that one. It’s well spoken of (and much cheaper than flying to Toulouse). Do any of you know it? 

  My recently-planted salad factory is coming on nicely. I really must get back to the Catalogue Room and to showing you some pictures.

   Franklin has launched a sock-knitting course for his patrons. We’ve only had the introductory essay so far. There are some wonderful sock yarns out there these days. 

   I haven’t done any knitting today, and I am beginning to be afraid that I am holding back because it is pleasant to knit round-and-round without getting anywhere, but finishing-off is going to be much more demanding.

   Thank you for your comments. I am continuing to enjoy Lane Fox on the Iliad. And my new Loebs arrived. The new traslation (for such it is) is very simple and clear, and very closely related to the Greek.

   Wordle: I am the class dunce again today. My two starter words gave me one green vowel and two browns. I struggled mightily but couldn’t think of anything. I finally gave up and typed in a Jean-word — qualified in every respect except that it re-used a previously eliminated letter. The result was no progress at all — I still had one green and two browns, although by now I knew one more place, for each brown, where it couldn’t be.

   That was line three. I did much better on four — my original letters were now all green, but I had made no progress at all with the two letters that had been missing from the beginning.

   I thought of something that fit, from the diminishing stock of available letters. And it was right. Five for me.

   Mark, Rachel, Ketki, and Alexander all had four. Three for Thomas — he’s clever, that boy.Theo and Roger both scored three as well. They’re clever, those Americans.

 Spring continues to advance, but slowly.

  Helen’s husband David is here for a long weekend from Thessaloniki. We had a nice visit this morning. 

  Thank you for your book suggestions (comments yesterday). I’ll keep a memo. For the moment i’m reading (audibly) Robin Lane Fox on the Iliad and “Damascus Station” by David McCloskey, recommended strongly by David this morning. I feel it may be too masculine and exciting for me. I also — while David and Helen were here — ordered the Loeb edition of the Iliad from Amazon. That’s the one that has English and Greek on facing pages.

  I am astonished that we didn’t have it amongst our many Loebs, but I am told not. 

  All very cultured. But I have done no actual reading or knitting today, so it doesn’t count for much.

  Wordle: Two for Thomas; three for Rachel, Alexander, Ketki, Roger, and Mark; four (oh dear) for me and Theo.

 Sunshine again, but today for the first time this year it felt like real spring sunshine, warm through the window. 

  I measured my knitting this morning on the kitchen table: 10 1/2” out of a necessary 12”. To be followed by a broad st st welt to be knit in a toning shade of Brooklyn Tweed “Tones”. But before that, the sleeves, still in half-brioche stitch in the original yarn. Still, I’m making progress. 

  I finished “The Whalebone Theatre”. The war certainly splits it in half. Perhaps I feel that the whalebone theatre itself is not quite strong enough a motif to hold things together. Or plausible enough. The book is highly recommended, in any case. I wonder how it was done. The scenes in occupied Paris feel absolutely authentic, but the author couldn’t be that old. 

  I’ve gone on to Robin Lane Fox on the Iliad, in Audible. I suspect I will leave it entirely audible, and buy something trashy for actual reading. But what?

   Helen has been working here again today, but I haven’t seen much of her. We think we have straightened out all our financial problems. 

  I tried to switch over just now to watch Mr Biden’s statement about Mr Novalny’s death “live” but either Biden is late or the connection failed.

   Wordle: I got two greens from my starters this morning, one v. one c. And two brown c’s. I quite soon thought of a knitting-related word and put it in for old times’ sake, expecting it to be wrong but it wasn’t. So I scored three.

   There was little sign in the rest of my group that knitting conferred an advantage. Ketki scored a brilliant two. Roger and Rachel were with me on three. Alexander and Mark were the fours; Thomas five; Theo six. He had greens for the first three letters of the word, and guessed wrong three times. Knitting would have helped there. 

   

 I’ve attached a new ball of yarn. And the idea is, if I start relevant blog posts like that, I’ll be able to check back easily to make sure that no ball takes more than a fortnight. It’s not much to ask.

  The weather has been dismal, grey, wet, but not as piercingly cold as it was a few days ago.

 Little other news. Helen has been working here again. I got some knitting done this morning (and hope for more before bed). I continue to enjoy “The Whalebone Theatre”. We’re now in Paris in ‘44 — the allies have landed in Normandy but haven’t reached Paris yet. Exciting.

  I agree with you, Mary Lou, (comment Tuesday) that the second half  of the book shifts on its axis. But so did the whole world, in 1939. I’ll deliver a final verdict soon. 

  Wordle: another four, for me. Another stinker— my starters gave me four browns, two v’s, two c’s. Titanic struggle (I hate anagrams.) Success! But it was wrong.

  Line four was right. And when I went back to WordleBot later, it told me after line two that there was only one possibility, after line three that “There was only one possible solution left and this wasn’t it. TheWordYouPut was a valid guess but unlikely to be the solution…”  I’ve been here before. Ridiculous. My guess wasn’t a foreign word or a plural or a past tense. It was a singular noun, and not obscene. 

  No Roger and no Ketki yet today. Ketki is often first of all. The remaining six of us were evenly split between threes and fours.

   

  

 Another grey, cold, wet day. Helen has been working here again. No knitting. I spent a fair amount of time asleep in my chair. I must pull myself together.

 There was a story in the paper yesterday about a farmer burning the wool clip. A few decades ago it was worth a penny or two, even to a farmer who raised sheep for food. It would be used for carpets and insulation.

  But then artificial fabrics took over those functions. I always assumed that merinos — whose fleeces are much desired for garments, from knitting wool to Saville Row — weren’t happy in Britain because the weather wasn’t good for their delicate chests. But yesterday’s paper suggests that merinos are too small to be very useful as a food crop. 

   I wonder how the thickness of Shetland lace yarn — measured in microns — compares to fine Merino. Industrious googling would probably tell me.

   Wordle: my starters gave me two green consonants and two brown vowels. It was still something of a struggle to think of a qualifying word. I got one at last. It didn’t seem very likely but it was right. So, three for me, always a welcome score.

But everybody else got three as well except for Thomas and Roger, who had fours, so I guess it counts as easy. 

Fat Tuesday

 Cold and windy, but Edinburgh was again brighter than many another place.

Today much like yesterday. Helen is still working here, not much seen. 

 Not much knitting. However the current ball is nearly finished —tomorrow should see it done. Or even tonight. 

 I’m getting on nicely with “The Whalebone Theatre”. I seem to have the audible version too — did I buy them both together? The wonderful thing is that the two versions are acquainted with each other. When I sit down to knit and be read to, the audible version knows how far I’ve read with my eyes, and starts right there. And vice versa.

  You who are familiar with the 21st century probably take that sort of thing for granted, but it seems like magic to me.

  I have replanted my salad factory, using seeds of my own —purple tomatoes and blue sweet peas — in two of the lingots, lettuce and rocket in the other two. I’ll keep you posted. Now that the Downstairs Lavatory is finished and I can get down the passage again, and it’s getting lighter, there’s no excuse for not getting back to my laptop and showing you some pictures. 

   Wordle: I was the class dunce again. Mark and Thomas and Theo three;  Alexander, Ketki and Rachel four; five for me. Silence so far from Roger, who often comes in late.

   My starters gave me three browns, two consonants and a vowel. I struggled mightily without success, and finally put a Jean-word in line three. I still had two consonants and a vowel, although one of the consonants had turned green. Line four had four greens. And, as I’ve said, line five was right. 

   

, 

 Bright and cold today. I think much of the UK was worse.

  Helen came, and we made some progress with financial problems. One of my bank accounts got frozen last year because I wasn’t using it enough. They warned us, but it was during the period when I was in and out of hospital and Cramond and Helen was away teaching mosaic-making. The problem is complicated by the fact that there are few bank branches left any more, with managers you can actually talk to. We’ll win in the end.

 Helen has been here for the rest of the day, working on a mosaic commission in the room that used to be my husband’s study. There’s lots more space there than in her studio. But she brings her own lunch when she’s working here, and I haven’t seen her.

 World news is too depressing to talk about.

  Wordle: four for me today. I had all but the last letter right on line three. Ketki and Roger were my fellow-fours. Three for everybody else. Pretty easy, I guess. 

 So yesterday was Scotland’s turn to win a moral victory and lose the match. It’s not much fun.

The weather continues grey and wet. My grandchildren Rachel and Alistair, and Alistair’s girlfriend Amy, and Helen, came to see me this morning and we had a jolly time catching up with family news. Rachel recently came close to setting the family house on fire and we all enjoyed hearing the details of that episode. She was wearing the rapidly-knit sleeveless pullover and it looked very well.

  Looking back, I can’t find that I mentioned Rachel’s pullover, although I’m sure I did. She knit it in four days. It fits to perfection, without swatching. Rather, she did swatch, and then paid no heed to the result.

  I’m now reading The Whalebone Theatre (and listening to it while I knit), and quite enjoying it. Knitting went well today, and there’s still time for more. I’ve done about 9” of the 12” required since the sleeves were left behind. (It’s top down, remember.) More significant, the current ball of yarn is beginning to look deplenished.

  Wordle: Success yesterday, so my winning streak is unbroken. We were spread all over the track today. I scored three (so did Mark): that doesn’t happen often, at least for me. Four for Alexander, Rachel, Ketki and Theo. Five for Thomas, six for Roger. 

 Rugby again — Scotland lost to France by a narrow margin. Very exciting, very distressing.

Little else to report, and no strength. I need to have something to eat and get to bed to make up for my missed nap.

 What a choice, for a mighty country — Biden or Trump! I am glad to be able to watch from a safe distance.

  I found that I, if pressed, could not snap back with the year my husband died. I remember day and month, and have worked out the answer so I’m ready with it now. (Oddly, no one has asked.) Now I need to figure out how old the cat is.

  I’ve done it. She moved in here in June 2015 and was presumably born in April. Coming up for her ninth birthday. Dear cat. Paradox was two years younger.

I did a pretty good evening’s-worth of knitting yesterday, and hope for the same again today. In the morning, when I finally attain my chair after the excitements of getting dressed and doing my exercises, I tend to drift off. Then, often, someone comes to see me (Helen, today). Then it’s nearly time to be transferred to the kitchen and start chopping something for lunch. Afternoon is carer’s-time-off when I try to sleep.

  Wordle: fours and fives today. The early reporters, including me, all got stuck with grn, grn, grn, ???, ???. Ketki, Rachel and I scored five. Alexander had four. Mark managed to achieve our configuration on line two, and scored a brilliant three. The late reporters all came at the answer differently and all scored four — that’s Thomas and the Americans, Roger and Theo. 

   

 Today we had a handover of carers. The current one is nicer, and at least I can feed my cat as much as she urgently wants. I think when we get things straightened out a bit I can also drink as much cider as I want — which is not that much. The current carer says that the alternate carer disapproves of her, too.

Neither of them is brilliant at housework. 

I’ve finished reading Anne Patchett’s “The Dutch House”. Recommended. I don’t know whether to go on to her recent book or turn elsewhere. I finished my Queen Mother book. Even the captious author couldn’t find much to complain of in her behaviour during the war. Even for royals — perhaps especially for royals — having young teenaged daughters must have made the fear of invasion that bit worse. 

No knitting so far today, but it’s early evening so far. I got a satisfactory amount done yesterday, and mean to start again soon.

Archie came today. We cooked lunch together. I didn’t care for it much, but he cleaned his plate. Eating with Archie is satisfactory that way, remembering restaurant meals in Italy. 

Wordle: I scored three! the first for a while. My starters gave me two green vowels. WordleBot says there were 20 possible answers at that point, but I guessed right. Everybody found it pretty easy.  Mark and Roger were the outliers with four, Thomas and Alexander (father and son) the stars with two. Threes for the rest of us.

 The downstairs lavatory is finished. It’s looking good.

I am sorry for my silence. Sheer sluggishness.

I am feeling sad and anxious about the king’s cancer diagnosis, as if he were a member of the family. How quaint of Mr Biden to think that a phone call from himself is what the king needs, whereas other world leaders contented themselves with good wishes and prayers. Biden who didn’t come to the Coronation and who prefers Ireland anyway.

I’ve done some knitting. The objective must be to finish the new ball next week — 10 days rather than a fortnight this time. My granddaughter Rachel — James’ and Cathy’s daughter — just sent me a picture of herself in a well-fitting sleeveless pullover — four days’ knitting, she says. She’s the one who now works at the Wallace Collection. She’s coming to Edinburgh soon.

I must get back to my laptop and send you some pictures. Work in the Downstairs Lavatory made access to that room difficult — plus, it’s cold in there. 

Wordle: my two starters yielded four browns today — the dreaded anagram! However, I solved it briskly and typed in my solution — a three at last! But no! It was wrong! I now had one green, anyway.  I solved it again. Four greens, but still wrong. I got it, on line five. The class dunce. The other British-based players had threes and fours. Father and son in DC, Roger and Theo, both scored four. 

 The downstairs lavatory is nearly finished, to the great relief of all. They have done so much cleaning up after themselves that I have done no knitting — the connection being that when they run their industrial hoover I can’t hear my iPad reading “The Dutch House” to me, which is how I like to knit at the moment.

  So I read a great deal of Lady Colin Campbell’s (hostile) book about the Queen Mother. I should be ashamed of myself. 

  Helen came, but I don’t think we achieved anything. 

   It’s time to plant some new lingots in my salad factory. They have at last produced empty lingots into which you can plant your own seeds — I’ve ordered two of those, for tomatoes and sweet peas. And two ordinary ones, lettuce and arugula (=rocket). And I’ve ordered tomato and sweet pea seed. 2024 is under way.

  Wordle: yet again, my starters produced two browns, one owel and one consonant. After a brief struggle I abandoned all my high principles and typed in a Jean-word (=couldn’t be right because it re-used one of the letters eliminated by my starters). It served brilliantly— I now had two greens and two browns, and romped home in line    four.

   Roger was today’s star with three. His son Theo was the class dunce with six.The British contingent were evenly divided between fours and fives.

 Sorry about yesterday. Six-Nations rugby is with us again, and that’s where I was. Wales were playing Scotland, in Wales.  We haven’t won there for a generation. Yesterday, they scored a moral victory and we had the win. 

   England beat Italy in Rome, but it was by no means the walkover one might have expected. Ireland beat France handily. Next weekend France will be here.

  Knitting has progressed. I’ve finished a ball of yarn, wound the next skein, but haven’t joined it in yet so probably shouldn’t report. The distance covered by this interminable brioche rib so far is about six inches. I need twelve.

   Comments: thank you for everything yesterday. I do think trusts are difficult here in the UK. I have updated my will since my husband died. Helen and Alexander — who currently have power of attorney — are the executors, so I hope things will go relatively smoothly. They are the two who live in Scotland. My four children get on well with each other, thank goodness. And I won’t be here to suffer the fuss.

   I would keenly like to know what’s wrong with the Princess of Wales, and can only admire the way royal insiders and hospital staff have refused to leak. The hospital was surrounded by journalists but they managed (apparently) to get her out unnoticed. I’ve seen a report that says she has gone home to her parents. That would make sense.

   The Times had a report yesterday that claims there was a news story on Spanish television saying that she was in an induced coma. But nobody has picked that up and run with it.

   Wordle: I won yesterday, so the winning streak is unbroken, entering the second month. Four was the base score today. Five for me and Alexander. Six for poor Mark. 

Groundhog Day

 It was bright this morning, but has been dull and rainy this afternoon. The groundhog could take his pick.

Today is Candlemas, the Feast of the Purification. There is an old English superstition that if the day is fair, spring is still six weeks away, whereas if gloomy, spring is here. Climate-wise, it makes more sense here. Groundhog Day is presumably a secularisation.

Helen came, and we made some progress with my financial affairs. Even if I went into care, she wouldn’t be spared that. She and Alexander have a lasting power of attorney which inspires me to sit back and disclaim all responsibility. 

Knitting progressed well as I listened to someone reading Ann Patchett’s “The Dutch House” to me. Two days at most will finish the current ball — well ahead of the fortnight I set myself. 

Wordle: not so bad today. My starters gave me two browns, consonant and vowel. It was hard, but not as hard as some recent days, to think of a qualifying word. (That’s the secret — hold out for a real possibility on line three.) It was wrong, but I got it in four.

Alexander and Roger were with me on four. All the others — all five of them — needed only three.

 I re-read  my blog posts from last summer, when I was staying at Cramond, to see if I could deduce anything about care homes. What I found was that I missed my cats — at the time I had two -  and, in one eloquent sentence somewhere, was afraid I wouldn’t recover from my lung infection in time to get home.

Well, here I am, and the lungs — I had almost forgotten about them— are better. Maybe I should just be happy to stay here as long as I can afford it. I think live-in care costs about as much as top-end nursing home care, but as long as I am here I must also pay for Council Tax, food, heating and light, and cat food. But I’ve got my dear, irreplaceable cat, and my cider. 

Being in care would certainly be a different experience once it was permanent and they started to break up this dear house.

Helen came this morning and we struggled with finance. I have three accounts here in Edinburgh. Two of them are “frozen”. We made no progress with trying to unfreeze them. But we found some money that we were able to get hold of (we think) and pay into the one un-frozen account (we hope). Life used to be easier, in some respects.

There was once when a picture by Dav*d W*ilkie was being sold in London under a lesser name. My husband was an expert, and knew. We sent James and Alexander to the sale, lest my husband’s appearance there alert anyone to the truth. We arranged in advance with the Bank of Scotland, Blairgowrie, to honour Alexander’s cheque.

And we got the picture. And when the auctioneer rang Blairgowrie to verify the check, they confirmed it in a calm Scottish voice. And then whooped around the office, “The Mileses got the picture!”

It’s still here. But banks aren’t like that any more.

No knitting yet today. There’s still time.

Archie dropped in at lunchtime. I hadn’t seen him for a while. He was in Cairo last week with his parents, where he had a good time.

Wordle: not quite so hard, today. My starters gave me three vowels, no less — two browns and a green. I struggled for a while and then thought of a really good word, but it was wrong (that often happens). I got it on the next line — so, four.

We were spread all over the place today. Two for Mark — brilliant! Three for Roger and Rachel.  My fellow-fours were Alexander, Ketki, and Theo. Five for Thomas, today’s dunce. 

 Weavinfool — we call it the Downstairs Lavatory after the one we had in Birmingham for many years, which really was downstairs, and similarly small. You’re right — the living accommodation here is all on one level. Thank goodness.

Thinking about yesterday, I think that care home is out. for lack of a garden. The limited area surrounding it had grass and bushes and could be accessed with some difficulty through the demented section, but it wasn’t a garden. I probably should give more weight to the way people were sitting about talking to each other. 

And I mustn’t neglect giving weight to my cat and my cider, the one impossible, the other limited, in any care home.  I think I can stay here for much the same cost as a la-di-da care home, with my cat and my cider and some considerable choice of food and lots of visitors. And sit out on the step in good weather and garden in my pots.

I’m reading Ann Patchett’s “The Dutch House”. Recommended. I found I had credit available to buy the unabridged audible version for free, so I am also listening to it while I knit.

Wordle: another toughie. For the third day hand-running, my two starters yielded only one brown vowel. Admittedly, it was a different vowel today. I scraped home with five, and that’s January done. I failed both on the first and the second, so my winning streak is as long as the year, minus two. Having said which, i’ll probably fail tomorrow.

Rachel and Ketki and Roger and I were the fives; four elsewhere. 

 

 An exciting day — actually going out! The people-movers came first, of course, and bumped me down the steps in an ingenious machine. I After that it was the familiar wheelchair.

  The nursing home was interesting. It was pretty up-market but less so than Cramond (where I was in the summer) in various small ways: no television or telephones in the rooms; hairdressing and physiotherapy available but they cost extra; not really any garden belonging to the premises; no wine with your dinner. On the other hand the occupants seemed to be talking to each other. Cramond was awfully silent 

   The people-movers came back and got us home. I think I’ve seen their ingenious machine advertised. If so, not cheap, but it might be worth it if a single carer could operate.

   The cat was upset, but we never found out whether she was distressed by my unusual absence or cross because her lunch was late. She went on complaining after I got back and after she had lunch. She spent the afternoon napping on my tummy as I napped, and has, at least, stopped complaining.

   Helen continues to be pleased with progress in the Downstairs Lavatory.

  That was of course about it for today. I’ve knit a bit more. The ball of wool is undoubtedly smaller, and we haven’t quite finished week one. The object is to polish it off before the current carer’s tenure ends in the middle of next week.

Wordle: again my two starters yielded only one brown vowel. The same one as yesterday, at that. I stuck gamely to the principle of entering only possible winner-words, and scraped home in six, the class dunce.

Three for Roger, today’s star. Four for Ketki, Thomas and Theo. Five for Mark and Rachel. They both had my configuration — four greens with a blank to be filled in the middle. Like me, they guessed wrong the first time, but unlike me they had reached that point in only four lines. Uncharacteristic silence from Alexander so far. 

 Another lively day — Helen’s home. She had a good time, despite cutting her head open on the edge of a marble shelf in the cloakroom of a museum in Alexandria. 

She has now been introduced to all that has been going on in the Downstairs Lavatory here (nobody talks to me), and is pleased with it. We are going to visit a care home tomorrow.

Knitting has advanced, with no further visual effect on the ball of wool. 

My nephew Theo has nipped over to London and assembled a remarkable collection of his relatives for a pub lunch. He has posted a photograph of the assembly on Facebook, and Rachel has also sent me a copy. Someone — Rachel — must sit down and write an identifying memo of them all. It won’t be possible in 20 years, let alone 50. I count 21 or 22 of them — and at that Rachel and Ed’s younger son Joe, with his wife and two children, weren’t there because they had flu.

Wordle: I wasn’t entirely pleased with today’s word. I got it in five. Rachel joined me there. Everybody else managed four. Roger hasn’t been heard from yet. He clearly doesn’t do it first thing in the morning like most of the rest of us.

My two starters gave me one brown vowel. I was determined to think of a real entry for line three — not a Jean-word. It was surprisingly difficult — my starters had eliminated five useful consonants as well as the other vowels. I found one at last. It was virtually useless — another brown. Line four was better.

 

 

 A livelier day, with visitors. It makes all the difference. And we were spared plumbers. Helen is on her way home, may indeed be here by now. I had a message from Cairo airport. I’ll see her tomorrow. 

  And I knit on. The current ball looks slightly diminished.

   C. came this morning. No news. A local friend, with Perthshire connections, came this afternoon, bringing daffodils and some forsythia twigs for forcing. She says the situation with the Bridge at Bridge of Cally is dire and that it might be a good idea to approach Kirkmichael via Pitlochry for a while.

Kate Davis has a new book for us, Colour at Work, to be revealed this week. She is always particularly appreciated in these darkest days. She recommends a BBC series, available as podcasts, called Owning Colour. I’ve listened to one, and it was indeed good.

Wordle: a toughie today, or so many of us found it. I scored five, which almost counts as good. Except that Rachel skipped through with a three.

Alexander failed. Theo and Ketki had six. Thomas, Mark, and Roger were my fellow-fives.

 Another bright day. There’s no doubt, now, that there’s more light.

The central heating has been restored. Its failure was presumably connected with all this banging here in the Downstairs Lavatory, as you suggest, Tamar. And once informed, the plumbers fixed it. No, we have no building superintendent. We could all get together and hire a “factor” but that might be more trouble than it’s worth.

 Otherwise the day has been very long and not at all interesting. I’ve done some knitting. The new bit now measures about 5”. What was it the last time I reported?  4”?

Wordle: I had an easy three today. The day’s recurring pattern was grn, ???, grn, ???, grn.  Rachel and Roger both achieved that in line one, but only got the answer in line five. Alexander had a total blank in line one, the configuration just mentioned in line two, and the solution in three. Mark had the pattern in lines one and two, grn, grn, grn, ???, grn  in line three — nobody else had that pattern— and the answer in four. Thomas, Theo and Ketki all scored three.

 The weather continues brighter and less windy, although pretty cold. My central heating, feeble at best, doesn’t seem to be working. Something to do with all these plumbers and all this banging? I’ll be glad when Helen is back to take charge of me 

  It’s an argument in favour of going to live in a care home — Helen wouldn't have to concern herself with some, at least, of the details of my life. Such as central heating. But, oh! my cat.

  The new light is beginning to creep in around the edges of the afternoon. It’s always a joy when that happens.

  Otherwise there is little or nothing to report. No one came to see me. I did a little knitting, but not nearly enough to achieve my new target of finishing a skein within a fortnight.

  Wordle: I had a titanic struggle this morning, and was pleased to get away with a five. Fours were predominant in the rest of the British team, except for Rachel who got three. Theo was another four. Nothing from Roger yet.

 The weather a bit better, I think, but mostly, here, it has been a day of plumbers banging in the Downstairs Lavatory, and carers handing over to each other. The current one is older and more severe.  Cider consumption will be reduced.

  Her arrival means that I’ve got to finish the newly-attached ball of yarn (see yesterday) within a fortnight. It gives me a target.

   Thank you, no, Mary Lou, I haven’t seen MDKnitting on the subject of hand-winding, and will seek it out. (Comment yesterday) Tamar, carers are meant to change places with each , other every two weeks as long as things go smoothly.

Wordle: threes and fours today — four for me. The threes were Ketki, Mark, and Alexander. Poor Rachel needed five. Different people got stuck in different scenarios. Rachel and I suffered from grn, grn, grn ???, ???, but Ketki had a grn, grn, ???, grn, grn and Thomas a ???, grn, grn, grn, grn. There is usually more symmetry when it gets to four greens.

 

 I’ve finished a ball of yarn! I pressed on hard today, feeling that that was an achievement I could achieve, whereas knitting round and round in brioche rib never seems to get me anywhere.

The last time I finished a ball, I sent my carer into the stash cupboard in search of the next one. When she succeeded, I asked her to leave the bag out to simplify further searches, but she refused, saying that she would know which one it was next time.

I was taken aback to discover  today  that that was a different carer — so the yarn I have just finished took more than a fortnight. I must speed things up.

The search was again difficult — oh! if I could walk across the room and look for myself! But we succeeded, after an interesting survey of my stash, and this time we did leave the bag out. The other carer will be coming back tomorrow. I have wound the new ball but not yet attached it.

Still cold. C. came to see me. All well in Cairo.

Wordle: Rachel and I scored three today (WordleBot was dismissive of my score — I was lucky, it said), Four for Ketki, Thomas and Mark; five for Alexander. They found it easier in DC — three for Roger, a brilliant two for Theo. 

 Storms rage — less perhaps in Edinburgh than in the rest of GB. 

A peaceful day. Good news from Helen, who’s enjoying Cairo, but bad news, too: she and Archie have colds. 

I knit onwards, and may yet get some more done this evening. In some ways it seems easier now that I have faced up to the truth of two-rounds-to-achieve-one.

I will enjoy listening to the outcome of the New Hampshire primary in my restless sleep tonight. I have never warmed to Mr. Biden, partly because of his Irish-based animus towards GB. But oh dear…  On the other hand, if you’re keen on democracy, ought you not to support its results? 

Wordle: I found it difficult again. WordleBot congratulated me on my four. On the other hand — with only Mark still unheard-from — everybody else, every single one of them, scored three. 

 The sun is back, looking very cheerful, but all reports from actual voyagers say that it is still very windy and cold, cold. We had a visit from a physiotherapist today, one of the voyagers. I have been fairly conscientious with my exercises lately, and was hoping that she could prescribe a couple more to get me moving again.

  Alas, no. My current exercises, if conscientiously executed, may prevent further decline, she said. Sort of depressing. 

  However, I got a fair amount of knitting done. I’ve done a generous 3” since I started knitting in the round — would that actually be 6” if I were knitting plain-vanilla rib instead of brioche?

 This morning I listened to I Vicere (in Italian) while knitting. I could roughly understand what was going on. I recently did an on-line test in the language which ranked me as “Dismal Intermediate”. I forget  exactly how it was phrased. 

  In the afternoon I listened to a recent episode of Fruity Knitting. It’s not as good as it was in Andrew’s lifetime, although I couldn’t say why.

   And I rejoice in Franklin’s news that he is finished with his cancer treatment. He is very brave to take on both Paris (as a permanent  residence) and cancer at once.

  Wordle: i found it very tough, and was more than satisfied with my five, scored late in the day.  Ketki and Rachel got three (however), Alexander and Mark four, Thomas five. Theo was another three, over there in DC, and we haven’t heard from his father Roger yet.

 The weather has broken. Now grey and wet and unpleasant, with storm forecast for tonight.

  Sharon and I have been making kimchi, always hard work. And in this case I fear it won’t succeed, because we have the wrong cabbage. But any cabbage should ferment — look at sauerkraut. And it looks beautiful. So we’ll see.

   Helen is having a nice time in Cairo. And, from my point of view, two days gone of the ten. 

   C. was here this morning. No real news.

   And I did some knitting. I am too exhausted by kimchi-making to hope for more this evening. 

  I am trying to learn to master the electric wheelchair, with only moderate results. It will turn on a dime, and I can do that. Going straight forward is the problem. Helen found it fully as difficult as I do. Alexander did rather better. 

   Wordle: another relatively easy one. Theo and Mark were today’s stars, with two; Rachel and I scored three . That leaves three others here in Britain, all fours, and poor Roger, in DC, who needed five. 

 Bright, cold. What’s new? We’re now in the fifth week post-solstice and I don’t see much in the way of more light, either.

   Helen, David and Archie are safely arrived in Cairo, where their son/brother Mungo is studying Arabic.

   Plumbers continue to bang mysteriously. Both bathrooms are now supplied with water.

   And I haven’t done any knitting. 

   Alexander and Ketki came to see me today. Both seem well. I forgot to ask what the weather was like underfoot on the shores of Loch Fyne. I think most of the really rough stuff, snow and ice, is confined to the upper left-hand corner of Scotland.

   Rachel is planning to come, with unimaginable quantities of great-grandchildren and a certain number of grandchildren to supervise, in the week after Easter. 

   Wordle: Rachel was today’s star, with two. The rest of us, on both sides of the sea, had threes and fours. Mine was a four, needless almost to mention.

 And yet another bright and cold day. Perhaps the coldest of all. Helen has gone off to Cairo, with Archie. They’ll be away for 10 days, much missed, for a holiday very much deserved. David will join them from Thessaloniki. Mungo is there already, studying Arabic.

  I felt dim this morning, but seem to have pulled round.

  I have been thinking with horror about my wealth. I have a state pension and a work pension, of course . Beyond that, our savings which include some shares my husband inherited. And beyond that, The American Money.

   The horror stems from the fact that the American Money seems to have overtaken our British savings, and our American Income likewise  to be more than our British “extra income.” It’s all properly declared and taxed. But I have always felt that the American Income was my “bit on the side” for knitting wool and cider and such. Now that I know the truth, it must be faced up to.

   Wordle: another fairly easy one, with a spread of scores.  Ketki was today’s star, with two. Rachel and the Americans, Roger and Theo, did it in three. The other four of us all scored four.

   My starters gave me three browns and a green. I easily thought of a possible — I  now had four greens and a blank. I got my four (obviously) on the next line. I still think — but this often happens — that line three was a better answer (except for being wrong).

  

 Cold, bright weather continues. Our plumbers have gone off leaving us with neither lavatory functioning (although we have water in the kitchen.) I am afraid to turn the heating on.

 A physiotherapist came, and offered but little hope of a system for getting down the front steps. Our accountant came this morning and we paid a lot of tax. She is Kate Davies’ accountant and was wearing a nice sweater she said KD had given her — a trial for one of her patterns, although I didn’t recognise it. 

  Otherwise, zilch. No knitting. 

  Wordle: Mark and Ketki needed four. Otherwise it was threes all round. Everybody has been heard from. My starters yielded a green and three browns. I think WordleBot said there were  four possible answers at that point. I was pleased to think of one of them. 

 Bright and cold again. Plumbers have arrived to re-make the (infamous) downstairs lavatory. It will have a shower. 

Two weeks in hospital? Off work until after Easter? I hope our famously intrusive gutter press will be able to tell us what’s wrong with the Princess of Wales. She’s too thin, that’s one thing.

I have made some progress with the ever-slow knitting.

C. came this morning, but I don’t think she had any news. 

I’ve also got an electric-powered wheelchair to try. It’s good fun, but…At lunchtime, trying to stand up from it, I thought my hip had taken the dreaded Next Lurch Downwards. I am more hopeful now, sitting in the kitchen in the old wheelchair, thinking about supper. I can return to the excitement tomorrow.

Wordle: clearly an easy. My starters produced two browns and two greens. A bit of a struggle, even so, before I landed my three. Thomas, Roger and Mark were the other threes. Everybody else scored two — including C. 

 Bright and cold again.

Knitting progressed, slowly as always. The heart of the trouble is that in brioche knitting one knits two rows for every one achieved. It would take some effort to work it out, but I am beginning to wonder if that is perhaps just as true for half-brioche as for the Full Monty.

Helen came and we had a session with a woman from Edinburgh Council who may be able to facilitate my problem of how to get down the front steps. She was pleasant, anyway.

I spent some time this afternoon working on a completely unnecessary problem involving my great wealth: how do you calculate what percentage something is of something else? Ask Google, is of course the answer. I got it in the end, and was surprised to find how valuable still (proportionally) was a gift my grandfather made me in the cold winter of ‘62-‘63, if not then, somewhere thereabout.

It may all soon be swept downstream to pay for my care. But it wouldn’t have done that in ‘62. My grandfather, too, needed live-in care at the end, and what he got wasn’t very good.

Wordle: All threes and fours today, except for Mark, of all people, who took five. I was a four. Ketki and Rachel and the two Americans were the threes.

My two starters gave me two browns, a vowel and a consonant. Couldn’t be worse, nor could I think of anything. (My starters use all the vowels except Y, and five common consonants. Sometimes, as this morning, that doesn’t seem to leave much room to manoeuvre.) Finally I entered a Jean-word (=couldn’t be right). It was useful, as often — three greens. And I got it on the next line.

 Another sparkling, bitter-cold day. Quiet here.

I made some progress with knitting, including counting stitches. The overall count is nearly right. I’m inclined to leave it be, retaining my notes. Brioche stitch under whatever name is a bit tricky count-wise.

  Wordle: we were spread all over the place today. Two for Ketki, three for Thomas and Mark, four for me and Rachel, five for Alexander. Theo and Roger in DC were three and four respectively.

I am sorry to be so brief. Helen has just been here and we paid some bills. It’s late and very dark. 

 

 And more sunshine today, although bitter cold.

Helen is safely back from Kirkmichael. That’s about it, for event. C. came this morning. She has had a busy week looking after her grandsons while her daughter and son-in-law move house. The move is done, the little boys happily installed in their new bedrooms.

 Thank you for comments, again. We are proceeding as you suggest, Shandy and others — concentrating on a wheelchair at first. We are going to hire one for a week to see what difference it makes. I think there’s a lot in what you say, Rebecca, in getting a physio of some sort in to advise on the mechanics of getting about. My right leg is still fairly sound. There must be some solution to the problem of those six steps. I’m not absolutely sure I couldn’t manage with two carers, one on each side; just walk down.

  Not much knitting. The cat continues to impede.

  We have cancelled an appt for tomorrow for a hip xray. I feared that the whole day would have been devoted to those six steps, with little result. Once we’ve cracked that problem I can turn up at a hospital whenever they bid me.

Wordle: many of us found it tougher today. Five for me, where I was joined by Roger, Theo and Thomas. All of us got bogged down in the search for the first letter, with four greens to follow. Everyone else scored four.

 We had some sunshine today, a rare sight. But very cold. Helen came by briefly with her dog Farouk, on their way to Kirkmichael. If all is well there, she will still be very much colder. She wanted to check up on everything after their recent rushed departure —with no heat, no light.

  I’ve had a dull, low-spirited day. Again, I am very grateful for your comments. Yes, I had lung trouble last year and the anaesthetist was unhappy about surgery. I’ve been better for several months. If we could figure out a way to get me up and down the six steps at the door, I could be ported over to Drummond Place Gardens from time to time. And if the wheelchair could be mechanised I could get about the house somewhat. Those two sources of relief might suffice.

   Not much knitting. I started on it bravely after I finished my morning exercises, but the cat jumped on my lap and after she left I dozed a bit and then Helen came…and there’s another day gone.

   I am worrying about the world like everyone else, hoping at least to improve my grasp of Middle Eastern geography before things settle down. Oman? Yemin? Helen and David and Archie are going to Cairo next week, a rather alarming prospect.

   She and Archie went to a rather wonderful-sounding Macbeth last night. 

   Wordle: easy-peasy again. Every single one of us — and all have been heard from — scored three today, except for poor Thomas who crept home with five.

 All well. I like the new carer, and so far she has shewn no wish to leave. Helen came round and we had a jolly lunch together, all three.

  Thank you very much for your messages about my future. It sounds as if there is more variety in British retirement living than I had thought. When my husband died, I briefly considered some retirement flats in Blairgowrie — I could live in one of them in the winter, I thought, and in our dear house in Kirkmichael in the more clement months.

   Little did I anticipate how soon this crippling hip would affect me.  I have long believed that the US served better those who came in independently on their own feet and later needed care. But anyway those flats offered no communal dining room nor any other form of communal life. What I need now is constant and intimate care and whatever niceties of life may prove to be possible on top. Maybe I should push for hip replacement? Death being preferable to the status quo?

  I am sorry to be so gloomy. Knitting progresses slowly. 

   Wordle: stunningly easy today. My starters gave me three greens and two browns. I got it in three. So did everybody else today, on whichever side of the sea, except for Rachel and Ketki, who both scored two.

 All well, more or less. We are in the throes of handing over from one carer to another. The one assigned here can’t stand my cold, cavernous house so she is going away and we are sitting here waiting for someone else. It’s a pity, as the one who’s leaving seems congenial.

  Knitting progresses, still very slowly.

  Thank you for your comments. You’re right that food is important, and right in your guess that I won’t have a microwave. I have started making lists, so far without much success. The balance seems in favour of staying here, especially because CAT weighs heavily on that side. As well as food.

  Helen and I are planning to visit a care home at the end of the month, delayed by the need for transportation to get me down the external stairs. It takes two men. I keep looking at websites. The trouble is, as I think I’ve said, that they are all or mostly skewed towards dementia.

  Wordle: a funny one today. Either you got it or you didn’t. I needed five, and was joined at that score by Thomas and Mark, the cleverest of the clever. Rachel needed six. Roger, Theo and Ketki, on the other hand, came home with threes. We haven’t heard from Alexander yet.