The Sabbath

Oh dear this the kind of Sunday of my youth which I look back on with undiluted horror. The weather is very grey, damp and depressing outside and reminds me of The Sundays when we children were taken to visit grandparents in dark gloomy flats in dark gloomy streets  at a time when children were seen but not heard. And so we sat on the stiff couch in the seldom used severe lounge and listened to the adults talking for what seemed hours before  we had afternoon tea and then could go home.

Despite the gloom I met up with one Merry Widow this morning and we managed to  laugh our way through 2 lattes before it was time to return home where I braved opening a drawer in HL’s erstwhile study to survey the carnage therein. I extracted 2 external hard drives with cables that aren’t compatible with my I pad Pro. I need to get extra connectors but with so many on offer with names from the letters of the alphabet I will need help from someone with IT nous.

 This is the pattern for the cardigan requested by Daughter#5. It possibly originated in the 50’s where no one was bigger than a 36”in chest. It wouldn’t work nowadays where patterns very often cater for chests up to 44”. I asked her to choose a colour but preferably not black and with all the ones available in the wool, she’s chosen navy blue. My eyes will be out on stalks.

My extra is the arrival of a root growing from an avocado  that I ate in Orkney and whose stone I carefully transported back home to see if it would do the business and it has- result!