Adrian bought this pair of socks in Amsterdam, in early November. That’s three months ago. Say he has enough socks to last him two weeks between doing laundry. He’d then have worn these six days at most. How can he already have a fingertip-sized hole in them? Does he walk on sandpaper? Have small piles of gravel in his shoes?

Wise from experience, this time I did my photographing when Nysse was not nearby.

The producer named this colour of their yarn “Silver lining”. Thinking of clouds, I guess. To me it looks more like rock. The colours are like marble, but it’s not veiny enough, so maybe granite. But a very soft granite.

Another concert in the chamber music series. Today’s ensemble consisted of a flute, a violin and a viola.

Hopscotch for solo flute by Anna Clyne (modern) was technically impressive but emotionally not interesting.

Capricci for violin and viola by Bjarne Brustad (1930s) was too modern for me. Too jarring and not enough harmony and melody. Although the fragments where the violin took on a folk music tone were interesting.

Rumi Settings for violin and viola by Augusta Read Thomas (modern) was even more modern and didn’t sound at all like anything I would associate with Rumi, although it was described as being directly inspired by one of Rumi’s poems.

Serenade in D Major for flute, violin and viola by Ludwig van Beethoven was charming and more relaxed and approachable than most of Beethoven. Although I guess I’m more familiar with his symphonies than his chamber music. The booklet accompanying the concert explains that Beethoven’s chamber music was probably not written to be performed in a concert hall, but for private performances, either at musical salons or simply by amateur musicians. If I was filthy rich, I’d totally pay for people to play Beethoven’s chamber music for me in my living room.

Trio for flute, violin and viola by Endre Szervánsky (1950s) was likewise charming. Fluttery, light and airy, with the instruments’ melodies often very close to each other, almost melting into one voice. (Unlike string quartets.) The piece made me think of birds and fairies and flowering glades in dappled sunlight. Somehow it felt like film music, like something that could have been in an early Disney movie or “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” or some other romantic, pastoral fantasy.

All the composers were presented with a picture in the booklet, except Beethoven, oddly enough.

I was going to take a photo of the cardigan-to-be, but a certain someone went all Smaug on top of it again.

I can hold the knitting and work on it, and he doesn’t care (except when the colourful stitch holders twiddle back and forth right in front of his face and he just has to bite them).

I can put the knitting down and he doesn’t care.

But when I bring out the camera and spread the knitting out and pay unusual amounts of attention to it, suddenly he claims it for himself.

I was going to take a photo of something completely different – exactly what I’ve forgotten – but there was a cat sleeping on me so I couldn’t.

Nysse has the softest fur of all the cat’s I’ve petted. Which is not a huge amount of cats, but still. He is very soft. And the most softest places are along his chest and sides.

In the morning my colleague and I visited Urb-it’s delivery hub behind Waterloo station. Scruffy neighbourhood, but a shiny, tidy, well-organized hub on the inside, with snazzy-looking Urb-it-branded e-cargo bikes and trikes.

Later on we had more meetings, and then ate lunch at Borough Market – prize-winning fish’n’chips. Quite nostalgic.

Also it was super weird to travel around London with people who pronounce Westminster as “West Minster” and Southwark as rhyming with “fork”. Good thing we didn’t have a reason to even mention Leicester Square.

A full day of meeting people and presentations and presenting and other conference activities, including building a spaghetti tower. Which collapsed before the one-minute mark and therefore got disqualified.

In London for work, to meet Urb-it’s UK team and to visit the London delivery hub. Landed this afternoon, took an hour’s walk along Waterloo Bridge and South Bank and back. Lots of colourful lights. I wish I had a few days – or weeks – to just walk around.

I’m making progress on the next sweater. Today I just got to the point where the shoulder pieces meet in the front and everything comes together into a recognizable shape. It’s hard to judge the sizing properly at this point but it doesn’t seem to be wildly off at least.

The last cardigan took me 9 months from start to finish. This one will be less work because there will be less of it, purely physically: shorter, narrower, no overlapping fronts. And the slightly looser gauge will also make it go faster. But I doubt I’ll finish it in time to be able to warm myself in it this winter.

Someone lay down a piece of newspaper from unwrapping a lampshade, on top of one of Nysse’s quilts. Which he has barely deigned to use in recent months. Some newspaper on top of it was apparently an improvement.