A grand weekend, although an exhausting one, not helped by a protracted journey home. But here I am, and the cats are fine. And glad to see me, I think, although it’s not entirely easy to tell with a cat. The friend who came in to feed them said that sometimes she couldn’t find them. Paradox was especially unforthcoming. Whereas I have been tripping over them all day.

The Christening was a great success. Hellie’s wedding shawl reappeared as the “white garment” put on the candidate in the moments after the actual baptism. So far I don’t have a picture of that. Here’s a nice four-generational picture, taken at the (excellent) pub where we repaired for drinks and snacks afterwards.

Thomas O., our eldest grandchild; his mother Rachel; me, looking rather Zimmermann-like; Thomas’ wife Lucy; their daughter Juliet. Lucy is expecting our third great-grandchild next April. She says she is feeling better, after a rocky start. She looks well.

I was glad to see the Polliwog appear, as the afternoon grew chill. Hellie said how easy it was to pull on, compared to some of Orla’s other sweaters. Which is, of course, the main selling-point of Mary Lou’s excellent design. I took a rather muddled picture of that event but haven’t yet succeeded in sending it here from my phone.

I didn’t get much sock-knitting done, but at least a start has been made on my new Arne & Carlos yarn.

Meanwhile the friend who was cat-feeding told me that the furry P’s had been doing some knitting of their own. Sure enough. Much of my knitting time today was spent in tidying up their efforts, and I suspect that Miss Rachel’s Yoke will continue to bear the scars. I’ve nearly finished the fifth stripe. The main colour got through that one all right, but threatens to run short in its final appearance later on.