So, well, week four, eh? Rather like a batsman who’s been out of form and plays some edgy aggressive shots to get himself off the mark, maybe a few streaky fours down through third man, then gradually settles down and paces himself to build a patient innings, I’m slowly settling into the rhythm of knitting again after the hectic rush through the welt. (That’s enough cricketing analogies for now.) So, we have steady but unspectacular progress to report.
I note that the calluses are coming back, too, most prominently on the tip of the left index finger where in the bad old days I’d frequently end up puncturing the skin and have to knit wearing a sticking plaster. This is caused by bad technique, I find, as I use the fingertip to poke the needle back out of the stitch after it’s been inserted and had the wool looped over it, like a bee being nudged off a flower after pollination. (Tried a thimble once but it was like taking a shower with a waste-paper basket on your head.)
At the moment it’s just a small mark ringed by concentric circles and is rough to the touch, but it’s definitely tender. (Don’t recall Sherlock Holmes ever identifying a knitter by their calluses, either, which makes me wonder if the great detective was all he was cracked up to be, quite frankly.)
This week, Gordon finished Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon, a large novel about, among other things, codes and code-breaking, information and banking, and how to divide a deceased relative’s possessions equitably among the family. He watched England beat South Africa at cricket – is there any other sport that insists on playing every game of a series, even after one side has already won the series? – and learned that his job is officially “at risk”, not a huge surprise since we’re closing down next March. And he visited Totnes, which is where old people go when they no longer feel self-conscious.